I decided to tackle my list of desired hobbies the only way I know how; head on. I went on a shopping spree to buy all sorts of things. I needed second hand clothing for my handbags and second hand jewelry for my re-envisioned jewelry line. I needed a better camera for my photography, groceries for my home cooked meals, airline tickets for my travel excursions and so much more.
My favorite hobby or passion of all time is traveling. I could easily live out of a suitcase every day of my life. If I could afford it, I would never rent an apartment again. I would just hop from city to city. Maybe one day I will, but for now I have to settle for mini-adventures.
Before I quit, I went to a new city approximately six times a year. Since I had a full-time job, most of those trips were just for 3-days over the weekend. They still added up and made me feel alive despite their short lifespans. Ever since I moved to Los Angeles, 31 months ago, I have traveled approximately 30,000 miles by air each year. (I want to make it to the 50,000 mile mark this year.) That doesn't include trips up to San Francisco, down to San Diego or over to Las Vegas. Needless to say, I didn't spend much time at home as it was.
The weekend I quit, I was in Las Vegas with friends from college. I actually gave my employment agency notice via email from my hotel room. It seemed fitting somehow. I told my boss and the company the following Monday. Then I went to Las Vegas again the following weekend, by myself, as a reward. I lounged in a huge spa-like bathtub, sipped wine, listened to soothing music, played craps, ate delicious food and slept a lot. It was fantastic. Two weeks after I quit I was back in Las Vegas again with some of my rugby teammates. (Oh yeah, I played rugby for 8 years until I quit my job and decided rugby was too much like a job to continue). I spend a lot of time in Las Vegas. In fact, I will be going back again at the end of March with some friends who live in San Diego. If living in Sin City wouldn't ruin it for me, I would move there in a heartbeat.
Before that fourth Las Vegas trip is able to happen, I will be in Panama City Beach, Florida for four days. I convinced my lifelong friend to join me in the notorious spring break destination to act like 21 year olds for a few days. She nervously agreed and that is what we will be doing in exactly 52 hours. I was in charge of booking everything so I got us a two-bedroom luxury suite in a hotel that does not allow anyone under the age of 25 to check-in. Just because we are going to act like 21 year olds, doesn't mean we have to stay in a loud, crappy hotel. We are going to show those college kids how to really party. Then we will haul our achy old bodies to our room to recover in silence.
After Florida and the fourth round of Sin City fun, it will be just a few short weeks before I am back in the air. I am doing a month long "hopper" trip. I am flying from Los Angeles to Ohio where I will spend time with friends from the post-collegiate year in which I lived in my hometown with my parents followed by an alumni reunion weekend at my alma mater. Then I will be driving to Chicago with someone and then we will both be flying to Aruba to meet up with our other friend and her mother. I have already looked up some of the historical sites in Aruba and can't wait to explore it.
After Aruba I will be heading to Orlando to spend a week, alone, in a one-bedroom condo. I will likely spend my days at the pool or wandering around the city by bus. Maybe a trip to Universal Studios to check out the finished Harry Potter attraction. My family and I were there last spring and even though it wasn't finished yet, it looked pretty cool. Really though, I'm only staying in Orlando because I had to find something to do between Aruba and a wedding I am attending the following week. It just didn't make sense to fly all the way back to Los Angeles. After I am done in Orlando I will rent a car and drive to New Orleans to take in the sites, sounds and tastes of that city before backtracking a few miles to the wedding in Florida. Then it is back to the relatively boring Los Angeles for a few months. Luckily, I will have a month long European backpacking trip to look forward to.
Okay, I realize I may have a problem. I just want to keep moving at all times. Remaining stagnant is my biggest fear. I'll get help for it eventually but right now, I'm just going to enjoy my lunacy.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
What now?
My last day of work was on a Friday. By that Sunday I had slept all I could sleep. I'm sure I caught up on several months of sleep that weekend. I had treated myself to a movie at a theater an hour away. I had a long list of things I still wanted to do. Some of those things were time consuming, others were expensive. Some were as simple as exercising regularly or never using alarm clocks unless absolutely necessary. Basically, anything I had ever thought might be fun/scary/exciting/satisfying/profitable I had put on the list.
A sample of my list is as follows:
Become fluent in at least 2 new languages
Be able to understand at least 4 new languages
Practice the keyboard every day
Get back into making jewelry and handbags
Sell whatever I make
Exercise daily
Cook more meals at home
Stop and smell the roses, literally
Spend more time outside
Pamper self with facials and manicures
Travel by plane at least 9 times a year, doesn't matter where
Take more pictures
Read more
Write more
Drink more water, less coffee
Well, you get the idea. I wanted to do everything to improve my life. I wanted to focus on myself for once. But first I had to go to a taping of Ellen with my old roommate. Oh what a rough life.
Tired of the Race
I became a professional hobbyist exactly one month ago today. I have always been one of those people who loves to try new things, eat new foods and see new places. So one day I decided that should be profession even if it doesn't pay a dime. But let me start from the beginning...
Like many of you, I had been working all my life. I worked during school on homework and with clubs. I worked after school with sports and volunteer work. Then after college, after all those years of working; I got a job. It wasn't a job in my field. It was a job to pay the bills. Pure and simple capitalism. Since I graduated college at the onset of the economic crisis, I was happy to have a steady job. Well, I wasn't really happy but everyone of my unemployed friends made sure I never forgot how lucky I was.
I awoke every weekday morning at 4:30 a.m. I showered, got dressed, did my makeup and my hair. I grabbed coffee and chugged it on my way to work. After about an hour or so of sitting in isolation at my desk in a cold, quiet building; the sun would start to rise and I could see through the dirty windows of the double glass doors that somewhere out there was warmth and happiness. My desk directly faced the hallway and the doors to the outside world. Since I never had any real tasks and I rarely saw other human beings, I spent many hours just staring out the door from my desk. Daydreaming of a life without chains.
You see, I was an assistant to someone who didn't actually need an assistant but felt he did. I would be given assignments that he deemed too difficult to attempt on his own and minutes later I would be finished. Once finished I would be left to entertain myself. At first I just played games on my computer. Then I graduated to chatting with people on Facebook or through email. Eventually I gave up on my job all together and started watching movies and television shows online. I burnt through my Netflix queue, watched all of my favorite shows on Hulu several times and started watching stuff that I wouldn't dream of watching during my free time. I estimate that I watched 300 movies and 700 hours of television shows during my 28 months. I would have watched more but some days I was too hungover or tired.
After my first day at the assistant job; I wanted to quit. I knew instantly that I would be bored out of my mind every single day. On my first day I was given a book that the previous assistant had put together. It outlined what my duties would be. The book may as well been blank. I cried to my parents over the phone after I left work that day. I was so frustrated. I had turned down another exciting but less stable job opportunity to work as an assistant and that day I regretted that decision more than I ever had anything in the past. They assured me that the job would get better and that I surely would have more to do in the future. Three months later nothing had changed. A year later, I was so numb to pointless nature of my position that I didn't care anymore. It wasn't until 18 months into the job that I truly started plotting my escape. I planned to save money for my early retirement and dreamed of a dozens ways to tell the company to 'shove it'.
I quit a month ago and haven't had a moment of stress since. Even when bills are due or I suddenly realize I need to earn some money, I don't stress. I pay the bills or I earn some money. Simple as that. Every day I wake up with a sense of choice. I can choose to lie in bed all day; drifting in and out of consciousness. I can choose to get up, go to the gym and lounge in the sun. Having a life full of choice is a strange thing to adjust to, but I think I will manage.
Like many of you, I had been working all my life. I worked during school on homework and with clubs. I worked after school with sports and volunteer work. Then after college, after all those years of working; I got a job. It wasn't a job in my field. It was a job to pay the bills. Pure and simple capitalism. Since I graduated college at the onset of the economic crisis, I was happy to have a steady job. Well, I wasn't really happy but everyone of my unemployed friends made sure I never forgot how lucky I was.
I awoke every weekday morning at 4:30 a.m. I showered, got dressed, did my makeup and my hair. I grabbed coffee and chugged it on my way to work. After about an hour or so of sitting in isolation at my desk in a cold, quiet building; the sun would start to rise and I could see through the dirty windows of the double glass doors that somewhere out there was warmth and happiness. My desk directly faced the hallway and the doors to the outside world. Since I never had any real tasks and I rarely saw other human beings, I spent many hours just staring out the door from my desk. Daydreaming of a life without chains.
You see, I was an assistant to someone who didn't actually need an assistant but felt he did. I would be given assignments that he deemed too difficult to attempt on his own and minutes later I would be finished. Once finished I would be left to entertain myself. At first I just played games on my computer. Then I graduated to chatting with people on Facebook or through email. Eventually I gave up on my job all together and started watching movies and television shows online. I burnt through my Netflix queue, watched all of my favorite shows on Hulu several times and started watching stuff that I wouldn't dream of watching during my free time. I estimate that I watched 300 movies and 700 hours of television shows during my 28 months. I would have watched more but some days I was too hungover or tired.
After my first day at the assistant job; I wanted to quit. I knew instantly that I would be bored out of my mind every single day. On my first day I was given a book that the previous assistant had put together. It outlined what my duties would be. The book may as well been blank. I cried to my parents over the phone after I left work that day. I was so frustrated. I had turned down another exciting but less stable job opportunity to work as an assistant and that day I regretted that decision more than I ever had anything in the past. They assured me that the job would get better and that I surely would have more to do in the future. Three months later nothing had changed. A year later, I was so numb to pointless nature of my position that I didn't care anymore. It wasn't until 18 months into the job that I truly started plotting my escape. I planned to save money for my early retirement and dreamed of a dozens ways to tell the company to 'shove it'.
I quit a month ago and haven't had a moment of stress since. Even when bills are due or I suddenly realize I need to earn some money, I don't stress. I pay the bills or I earn some money. Simple as that. Every day I wake up with a sense of choice. I can choose to lie in bed all day; drifting in and out of consciousness. I can choose to get up, go to the gym and lounge in the sun. Having a life full of choice is a strange thing to adjust to, but I think I will manage.
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