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What to Do When You Don’t Know What to Do

Sixteen days.

That is all that stands between today and the day that I have to make my final decision about my job.  I’m violating an age old blogger rule by talking about work, but the thing is, I don’t hate my job.  I’m not bashing on my office, and over all, I really do quite like my job, despite the events of last week.  The benefits are good, the pay is more than I would make closer to where we live, the people are friendly.  The pro list far exceeds the cons.

The problem is that the con is such a big con.  The commute is killer.  Every day when I wake up, I dread walking in the cold wind and rain.  Every time someone gets off of the train on a stop before mine I hate them a little bit, because they’ll get home before me.  I look forward to getting off work at 4:50, and then every day as I leave work I remember that even though I’m not at my desk, it will be at least another hour and a half before I’m really “off” and curled up on the couch.  I hate being at the mercy of the train schedule, and as bad as it is for the environment, I really miss driving to work, listening to the radio and not having to deal with some big, sweaty man swiping my armrest or trying to read while some shrill voiced woman cackles into her phone for an hour.  I want to have the time to take a class after work, or to meet a friend for happy hour without having to leave to catch the last train at six o’clock or figure out the byzantine bus schedule that will tack on another hour to my commute.

Honestly, I know what my decision is.  I want to give my two weeks notice and search for a position closer to home.  There.  I’ve put it in writing and admitted it to myself.  I am not cut out for this kind of commute.  I really want to leave my house at eight in the morning and be home by five-thirty.  But every time I make up my mind that this is it, it’s time to move on, I am immediately accosted with my fears that I won’t find anything better than this, that I’ll regret my decision.  A voice keeps whispering in my ear that I’ll be jumping from the frying pan into the fire.  But it’s like having that boyfriend who is GREAT on paper, but it’s just not working out in real life.  I know I need to move on, but why does it have to be so haaaaaard!

I’ve never just outright quit a job in this way.  I left my high school job because I was going to college, I left my college job because I was moving to Arkansas for the Air Force, and I left the Air Force because I hated it from day one.  Those were all such easy decisions, and I never for a second doubted my choices.  I wish I could have that feeling of certainty and clarity with my decision now.

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