I walked out on my toxic job with nothing to fall back on except my husband’s 6-figure income
It was a cold, gray morning when I walked into the office that Tuesday. The unread emails were piling up in my inbox, and a note left on my desk that I saw first thing: "Come see me when you get in."
I had just about had it with the way my boss kept ordering me around to do tasks related to my job title, and I was ready to tell him what’s what. I listened to a podcast on the way to work about the Great Resignation, and knew the time had come. I walked right into his office and screamed at him, “I quit!”
Before he could even get a word in (Later I found he just wanted to know what kind of cake the office should get for my birthday, but that’s besides the point).
I walked out of the office, my hands shaking, not knowing what I was going to do. I called my husband and told him the shocking news. He was in a meeting, but being the CEO, he could easily step out to take my call.
“Honey, I quit!”
His reaction was a little less dramatic than I was hoping for…he said “Okay” and “Don’t forget to pick up the dog’s ear medicine,” but I knew what he really meant was for me not to worry, and everything will be okay during this financial hardship. I pulled my Mercedes into our four-car garage and walked into our 7,400 square foot home wondering what I will ever do now.
Fortunately, the next day the hubby took me to our beachfront condo for a two-week respite to figure out my next moves. I really understand now what it’s like to be unemployed, but I’m so happy I was able to stand up for myself…with hardly anything to fall back on! Except for my 800-thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. Those are pretty nice to fall on.