Updated: Oct 1, 2018
I turned in my notice of resignation two weeks ago.
We had been planning to relocate but didn’t know where to or what date when I handed it to my boss. I had contemplated leaving my job for awhile before actually following through, but when my husband told me to actually do it, please refer to the following convo for what my face looked like when he gave the go ahead.
Skin turned blue and everything. I was not expecting him to give me permission to do so, but I thought I'd be ecstatic when he did. I wasn't ecstatic. I was anxious....like nervous butterflies in my stomach, kind of want to throw up anxious.
Why did I feel this way? I wanted to quit. I really wanted to quit. But there was something about him telling me to actually do it that made me think "Hold up now babe. Don't you want to talk about this some more?" Mind you, just a few days to a week before this text convo I got down on my knees while my husband was lying in bed (get your mind out of the gutter please) and said "Babe I'm done talking, it's time to execute on something!" I am eye rolling and side eyeing myself as I write that. I was talking about executing on an idea and then turned around and was like bruh, I ain't mean right now. My husband is a man of action. I have to be careful what I say I'm going to do or want to do cause he is right there like Nike, Just Do It.
So why am I nervous? Maybe because starting and running a business is HARD. Many fail within the first few years and not everyone is cut out for entrepreneurship. Also because I'm not the type of chick that does well with unemployment. I like my paychecks and I like to contribute financially to my household. And this would mean that I’d be unemployed for an unknown amount of time. I can only last about a month and a half of not working before I get stir crazy. And it’s extremely uncomfortable for me to depend on someone else financially.
Ask Teno how many arguments we had during our long distance relationship when I was in grad school about me not wanting to accept his financial assistance for the things I needed (groceries, gas, etc.). I even cringe thinking about asking for money for hair and nails. I've gotten better, but independence is at the core of who I am.... So my husband is telling me to do what?! Quit my job to start a business? I'm legit asking him how this is gonna work when I have things like my braces and student loans to pay for. He comes back with "Swipe the Amex, that's why you have it."
I just stared at him. Oh ok. I guess it is just that simple.
I'm not gonna lie. I'm nervous and scared. I talk a lot about getting out of your comfort zone, but I love being comfortable. I ask to be pushed but when pushed I turn around and look at you like, not that hard! Shit, I'm little, a gentle nudge will do. It felt drastic. But the reasoning behind the resignation is that it no longer made sense to give 8 hours a day to something that's going to end sometime soon anyway. That's 8 hours that can be used on doing market research, developing a business plan, networking, branding, raising capital, the list goes on.
It's easy to make excuses as to why I can't sit down for an hour today after work and do some of that stuff - I have 3 pets to take care of, I need to clean and cook, my husband needs attention, and if I stay up too late I'll snooze the alarm and be late to work. I'm not always the most disciplined person and I like my R&R so when I get home from a draining day at work (which has been most days for the past several months), I want to get out of my work clothes and into my warm bed, not do more work.
You know what I can't do though once I’m done working and focusing on building a business? I can't have my husband come home from work at 5 and ask me what I accomplished today and I tell him "nothing." I have to commit. I have to execute. So cheers, to a new chapter in life! Countdown to November 30th.
Update: My husband interviewed for a job in Ohio the same week I submitted my notice and was offered the job just a few days after the interview. He accepted. Turns out I was going to have to submit my notice anyway.