That’s what it cost.
Exactly one year ago yesterday, I quit my job. I had my reasons. Like every major life decision, though, the sabbatical was propelled more by what I couldn’t do any longer than what I wanted to do going forward. It’s a simpler need to satisfy, anyway; picking one path from an endless selection of paths can be overwhelming, but knowing you need to get the hell off the path you’re on is a great deal more intuitive.
I heard the skepticism. I sensed it, because I’ve done it myself. You know, that slow nod accompanied by “wow, that’s great”; the only response you can concoct when someone tells you they’re majoring in art history. Outwardly, you feign support, but inside, you mumble to yourself “what the fuck are they going to do with that?”
So yeah, I know it when I hear it.