Some of the work bored me to tears. Still,
I didn’t mind the job, and the company was a relaxed place. Because I had
seniority, I was able to pick and choose my assignments, and say pretty much
whatever I wanted to do. My boss was OK, and I got along with my co-workers.
And the salary wasn’t half bad. So if nothing had happened, I probably would
have stayed with the company for the foreseeable future. And my life, like the
Moldau River would have continued to flow, ever so swiftly, into the sea.
(…)
At work the next day I handed in my letter
of resignation. My boss had heard rumors and decide that it would be best to put me on extended leave for the
time being. My colleagues were startled to hear that I wanted to quit, but no
one tried very hard to talk me out of it. Quitting a job is not so difficult
after all, I discovered. Once you make up your mind to get rid of something,
there’s very little you can’t discard. No- not very little. Once you put your
mind to it, there’s nothing you can’t get rid of. And once you start tossing
things out, you find yourself wanting to get rid of everything. It’s as if
you’d gambled away almost all your money and decided, what the hell, I’ll bet
what’s left. Too much trouble to cling to the rest.
Man-eating cats
Haruki Murakami