I Finally Quit My 9-5 Job… Here’s Why


For many of us, finally quitting that soul-sucking 9-5 office job to make money pursuing our passions is merely a dream. Between the daily traffic, having to put up with annoying coworkers, and sitting in a drab gray cubicle all day long, destroying our spines, at some point we grow tired of it and fantasize about what it was we wanted to be as children: an astronaut, a farmer, a painter, a firefighter… But it’s too late. As much as we despise certain aspects of the 9-5 lifestyle, we can’t deny that it grants us stability and a steady flow of income.

It was with all of these thoughts swirling in my head that I finally decided to hand in my 2-weeks notice. What finally made me do it, you ask? I can tell you that it wasn’t that nasty paper-cut I got on my finger, wasn’t the coworker who killed my plant by watering it with coffee every day, and wasn’t even that promotion I got passed up for because even though I surpassed my sales quota for the month, someone else had been working there longer than I had. No, I quit my job because I intend to move to the planet Heliotropica with my alien fiancé.

Our romance was a whirlwind. One Saturday just 8 weeks ago, I was sitting in my garden having an afternoon cup of tea. All of a sudden I noticed that the air next to my hydrangeas was looking kind of fuzzy. I thought, oh no am I getting a migraine? And then BLAM! There he was, my six-foot-tall, purple-skinned guy with, not two, but four arms and a beautiful fluorescent antennae coming out of the top of his head that no matter where he is, always points in the direction of the sun. Who was this beautiful creature? I was instantly enchanted. Little did I know at that moment, he was thinking the same of me.

I offered him a cup of tea, to which he responded, “Glrrrrrrr. Glorrrrrba.” I said, “Huh?” Then he frantically dialed a couple of buttons on his chrome choker and said “Sorry, my dear. I forgot to switch my voice operator to English. I would love a cup of tea.”

It was the most important cup of tea I’ll have in my life. From our conversation, I learned that his name was Martin. He had been watching me through his television since I was a little girl (on Heliotropica, they had these television devices that enabled the viewer to dial-in to any location in the universe). What was once a friendly fascination had developed into a passionate yearning. He was in love with the woman I had become. He was here to propose marriage and bring me back to planet Heliotropica with him so that we could start a life together.

“I hope my advances are not too sudden for you,” he said. “I know you’ve just met me, but I have known you for a long, long time.”

I was speechless.

“I do not mean to pressure you. However, you must know that I took a great risk in coming here. I stole my government’s only teleporter belt. By my accounts, they will know it is missing in just 6 more hours. I must return back to my planet before they find out or else I risk the punishment of death.

“If you say yes to my proposal, I will send a ship for you in 8 weeks so that you can travel back to my planet safely. If you say no, I promise you will never hear from me again, and I will erase your channel from my television. Please, Claire. You have less than 6 hours to decide.”

And then, he laid down in my garden while I paced around my living room, pondering his proposal.

I thought of my life on Earth. I was an only child, with a set of loving parents. They would surely miss me, and I would miss them too. I had a couple of close friends, but they had their own children now to keep them busy. They would hardly miss me. What about my job? Who was going to keep up with my clients while I was gone? Who was going to pick up my sales quota next month? Who was going to listen to Debra overshare intimate details of her personal life and replace the toner in the copy machine when it ran out? Or show my boss how to save an excel file?

And then it hit me. I was completely, one-hundred percent replaceable at that office. At the snap of their fingers, they would find a plucky, overly-optimistic recent graduate to fill my cubicle.

I ran outside to Martin, who was meditating above my hydrangeas. (He does this cute thing when he meditates where he hovers above ground and his single large eyeball rolls around like a slot machine in his head.)

“Yes!” I shouted. “I will marry you!”

With the answer he came for, Martin returned to Heliotropica and replaced the teleporter belt without detection. Now, my letter of resignation signed, sealed, delivered, I await Martin’s ship to bring me to my new future.

You never know when a Heliotropican might show up, rescuing you from a dull, ordinary life.

Would you say yes?

2 comments on “I Finally Quit My 9-5 Job… Here’s Why”

  1. Hahaha omg I didn’t know what to expect when I visited your blog, but I must say I’m in love. It’s so hard to pull off humour, yet you do it effortlessly. And I love how all your posts share the same theme. Am loving it. Thanks for your writing style!


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