Most recently there was a creative writing course, which, naturally, I quit. There were two faltering years of another degree at another university. Within weeks of starting, I’d switched degree programme. Next was the last-minute switch to a philosophy degree in London. Before that had a chance to fail, I quit.
I went back to sixth form and took an art A level and applied to art schools instead. That was back when I wanted to be a meteorologist, fresh off the back of one too many viewings of The Day After Tomorrow. When I was 18, just days before I was due to start a physics degree at a university I’d always dreamed of attending, I quit. In my defence, and perhaps to my detriment, I practise what I preach. In the vacuum that quitting creates, countless new maybes rush in. The only thing more thrilling than quitting something is starting something new. Why sit steady, I will ask, when you could spin a new story for yourself? A career change sparkles on the horizon. It is something like the “dump him” refrain of faceless internet friends: an easy remedy for a systemic wrong making islands of people to save them from hurt. Ever a bad influence, I advise people to quit far more enthusiastically than I ever impel them to stay. I’m an evangelist for this kind of quitting.
0 kommentar(er)
