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.
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