Today I gave my two week’s notice at the company where I serve as the Chief Operating Officer. Just typing that sentence made me want to throw up my lunch–which, by the way, was off the Taco Bell dollar menu because I already feel broke. I have no prospects, no direction and no idea what I’m going to do. I’m scared, frustrated and kinda angry to find myself here at 40 years old.
Aren’t you supposed to put the pedal to the metal in your 20’s and 30’s so you can hit cruise control at 40? Isn’t this why I’ve been busting my ass all these years? I did everything possible to ensure smooth sailing on this part of the journey–good schools, good grades, climbed the ladders and decreased all the risk. I should be going 80mph on the success freeway with the wind in my hair. Instead, I’m sitting on the side of the road with a blown tire and a broken jack.
What a disaster…except it isn’t, really. There is a difference between a car wreck and a flat tire. Where I am is not an accident, it is a pause. I am right where I am supposed to be at this moment, as painful and itchy and cognitively dissonant as it seems. There is a story here, there is life to be lived, lessons to be learned and it’s time to grab whatever “spare” I can find–spare hope, spare love, spare humor, spare wisdom–and get back on the road.