If you read to the bottom of my last post you may have noticed my mini-bombshell. Yes, I quit. My job and the fellowship. I'm a quitter.
If you've been paying attention or been one of the dozens privy to my angsty emails over the last 2 months you're not surprised. I'm still a little surprised, however.
It came about suddenly, actually. My first day back after the dengue (and my boss' first day in the office after her second 1 month vacation of the summer) she just asked if it was true I was unhappy and that ''it might not be working out?" All I could do was tell the truth. And then it was out there. It didn't follow the schedule of how I planned on working all of this out, but it's done and I feel just a little less burdened with indecision.
I had a moment, over copious wine and samosas at Simply Blue (the swanky new Norodom Blvd bar owned by the oddest forensic psychiatrist/spook/braggart/DC native I have ever met) with coworker/lifesaver Swifty about whether I shouldn't just stick it out cause I probably could. It's true. I could just suck it up and sit here for a year. But damnitol, that is not what I want for the next year of my life. Plus Swifty's last day was yesterday. And I'm sick again. And my TiVo awaits.
I had another moment, too, this time over ginger chicken (Thai food is usually the tastiest option in Phnom Penh) with my dear roommate Fi wherein I was talking about how ''once my job is over, I'll..." And I paused. I literally did that slow realization thing where you start smiling to yourself because you realize you're happy about something you didn't know you were happy about. Like all those times Dawson "the Head" realized he really did love Joey. Just like that.
I am forward-looking. I am progressing. I am getting to somewhere I'd like to be. And soon enough I will be reunited with some of my favorite people in the world, including maybe Koko the Gorilla. She lives in Woodside, don't you know.
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