The first time I quit my job I was an expat in London making a six digit salary at age 26 working in events. My family thought I had gone insane. No one else really knew how much I was giving up and probably didn’t until today but I just knew I had to follow my path and that my path was not in that office.
For four months I swam in the world of creativity: I played piano and sung about 5 hours a day, I hosted dinner parties for all my finance and manager friends, I attended a screenwriting course and I planned a trip to Brazil with one of my very best friends.
And then I got the call. My headhunter. I had not told anyone I wanted a new position, I was loving life to the fullest and breathing in my new found freedom. But that job, that job was every girl’s dream job. I will only say, it was for a publisher, the N.1 publisher, and it was a director role overseeing all the publications.
I called my dad and it went something like this:
Me: ‘I got a job but I don’t want it what do I do?’
Dad: ‘They just called you, you haven’t even interviewed you, you don’t know if you will get the job.’
Me: ‘If I interview I will get it’
I got the job.
Note to self: when you don’t want it, you’ve got it