Yesterday, I suggested that I was ready to press my timetable by quitting my job now, rather than at the end of July. I believe I said something about “reaching down into the sack and grabbing a pair.”
Well, I scrounged around in there for most of the afternoon, but just couldn’t get it done. It was like Santa Claus had turned up two presents short. There were reasons, but none of them bigger than the fact that I just felt bad trying to break the news.
It was surprisingly like trying to fire someone; a supremely unpleasant task I’ve had to perform more times than I care to recount. The only difference was that this time I was sharpening the ax for myself. In my head, I was ready. Unfortunately, my legs simply failed to lift me off my office chair and carry me down the long hallway where a certain 64-year-old sat stewing over accounts receivable.
At about 4:45 I received a text message from Michael and Chris that simply read: “How’d it go?”
I laughed. Those bastards knew very well that they’d have heard from me if it had “gone” at all. I pictured them sitting in their swanky offices, halfway through their second martinis, formulating that message.
Michael: Let’s text and ask him if he did it yet, like we don’t know the answer.
Chris: No, let’s presuppose that he actually did do it!
Michael: So just something like “How did it go?”
Chris: Yes. Except make it “How’d it go?” so it sounds all casual. Like we’re not even entertaining the possibility that he’s shitting down his leg right now.
(CUT TO: martini glasses clinking together)
A few minutes later as I was pulling out of the parking lot I called Diana.
Me: Hey, baby, how’s it going?
Diana: Okay, how about you?
Me: Fine. Just getting on the road. Do you need anything from the store?
Diana: You didn’t do it.
I saw no reason to write this post last night. And even if I had, l didn’t have the energy. But when I woke up this morning I remembered that the whole point of this blog is to show the entire process of extricating myself from the First World and landing in Latin America. Not just the successes, but the moments of weakness, doubt and failure as well.
Besides, I want to be able to look back at this blog some day and think “Damn, Brighton, look at what a tool you were. You didn’t know whether to shit or go blind.”
Today is another day. Another chance to get a huge step checked off the list.
See you on the other side.