sometimes. or actually a lot of the time I look at stuff and I wonder “why? why did I choose to quit my job?” it’s not like I was making too much money but I could have saved up for the endless amount of material objects that give me that delicious giddy feeling. like that kate spade bag. the nike windbreaker. the sequin converse. hunter boots. chloe sunglasses. freepeople anything. marc by marc jacobs. an ipad. nikon camera. etc etc etc x etc. but then I take a step back. why did I quit my job? was it because I was getting really sick of bringing extra wasabi to the customers that didn’t end up being eaten anyways? or was it because I wanted more time to study? sometimes I feel like I quit to try and curb the material wants because no money = no goods. or maybe there were days when I really just wanted to stay at home and be at peace with the world instead of feeling rushed to get to a nonexistant finish line.
and as I’m writing this, I feel like I made the right choice. I may feel regret every time rebecca minkoff sends me an email cataloguing new (and super cute) bags but I’m just as content going to the movie theatre or chilling at barnes and noble without any obligations on my mind.
and besides, that future will come sooner or later right? if not, oh well, hopefully amc and barnes and noble will still be around.
