I Quit!!

(This is from March. My apologies for the delay, void. I was overwhelmed.)

After 6 weeks, I'm happy to say that I quit my job. I am no longer a salesperson.

On March 6th, I knew I was done. I hadn't made any sales and I was fighting with the snow (I was losing). It absolutely was not it. And yet that wasn't the day I quit; at least not physically.

This AI generated photo is a placeholder until I can get rights to use a photo of the Freedom Statue (of Mpundu Mutembo) in Lusaka, Zambia.

What happened on March 6th then?

Once upon a time, there was a starry-eyed, tenacious girl who dreamed of one day affording to live well in the 21st century. In an attempt to improve her life (earn money), learn a valuable skill and contribute to society, she took a job as a door-to-door salesperson. The timing was terrible as it was winter, but desperate times call for desperate measures. And early 2024 was a desperate time.

Knocking on doors in that weather is already a challenge: sub-zero temperatures; freezing knuckles on a frigid, solid surface; black ice coating the streets and making them slippery. On this particular Wednesday afternoon, the snow was falling like dandruff—pervasively. Ubiquitously. It had been an especially cold Winnipeg winter's day when a pesky snowstorm decided to make an appearance.

In a fairytale about an extremely successful salesperson, this would be the part where they would Brave the Snowstorm.

She persisted and knocked on every door on their turf! Refusing to take no for an answer and egged on by the storm, our heroine knocked more fervently. Sold more fervently. I will get that sale! I WILL get that sale! I will get that SALE!

That day, our salesperson made 9 sales—the most sales of her budding sales career. Their resilience paid off and in true fairytale fashion, she lived Happily Ever After.

Theoretically, and literally, I did neither. I went home, made myself a great dinner, and did my Duolingo exercises.

Video from March 6th.

I do this thing where I make life difficult for myself somehow. Unfortunately, I only realise it when I'm in the difficulty.

When I worked in sales (it was only 6 weeks, please), we had daily morning meetings. I learnt a lot from them, and I'd like to apply them in other areas of my life. I'm not going off on a tangent, I promise. This is just my exposition.

One of the morning meetings was about there being three types of people: pessimistic, realistic, and optimistic. I propose a fourth, not so secret type: delusional. In the most chronically online way possible, I am that.

I don't want to catastrophise, so I do not think of The Worst That Could Happen. I've been there before and it left Me exhausted, filled with dread and paralysed by fear. And then everything I feared came true. I hated it.

Now, I do the complete opposite.

Does this horse have a buzz cut??

Image by Bernhard Stärck on Pixabay.

I turn my blinkers on and look down so that I can only see so far. The rest is going to sort itself out. So I only realise I'm making things more difficult when I'm going through difficulties.

What are these vague "difficulties"?

Well...in this story:

I decided to try something new—a sales job even though I have had zero sales experience. I was up for the challenge and they said they could teach anybody. Worst case, I learn something. Best case, I'm the most successful salesperson to grace the Earth.

Now here's the fun part. It was commission only. No base pay.

I reminded myself that it was only commision-based multiple times out loud but it only started to sink in when my training period was ending. I would be off my training bonus and on my own. So if I didn't sell, then I wouldn't earn a cent. I had convinced myself for weeks that the urgency would be a good source of motivation.

It was not. Instead, it made Me extremely anxious.

Sure, I had made some sales here and there. But I was by no means consistent. That made me panic.

How could I plan anything on an income that fluctuates and so drastically too?

That was the difficulty. I couldn't see my life in this version of reality. I hated what I could see.

I felt immense guilt, irresponsibility and fear before I quit. But I did it anyway (and didn't tell anyone for a bit).

In the same way that the "right" person at the wrong time is the wrong person, the "right" opportunity at the wrong time is the wrong opportunity. I had convinced myself that under certain conditions (if I had no rent to pay, if I didn't have another job, if it was nicer outside, if I found my stride) it would have worked out. And, again, desperate times call for desperate measures. But there were too many contingencies and some of them were honestly just excuses. The weather absolutely would (and did) become nicer. It was wonderful the day I went to properly quit and hand in my stuff. I merrily spent that day at the library because I took it as an omen.

Of course I Tweeted the thought that helped Me reframe on the day I quit.

Ultimately, I weighed my options and decided that it would be better for Me not to gamble with both my income and wellbeing. Some money is better than no money, but there are easier ways to earn any money. And I would like the easiest way, please. I am not a slave.

Happily Ever After is still chasing Me though, so let Me stop running.