It’s such a nice, cozy place. I know what’s going to happen in the comfort zone, be it good or bad. I know I can handle the bad. I know I can expect the good. Everything is hunky dory, even the shit that isn’t, because better a devil you know than the one you don’t, right?
That’s what keeps playing in my head while I try to push out of my comfort zone and find another job. If I stay here, I know how much I’ll make. I’ll know what my hours are. I’ll know my what my commute is like. I know what is expected of me. I know my job top to bottom, back to front, and every bit in between to the point where I can perform my required functions blindfolded and listening to an audiobook.
But that’s also the problem. Complacency =/ growth. Stagnation =/ progress. At this point, I am putting in my precious hours each day for little more than a monetary reward and, while there was a time in my life where that was perfectly acceptable because sometimes all you can do is get by, I’m not in that position any more. This isn’t necessary.
But the alternative is scary. The alternative is letting go and trusting and hoping, with absolutely no guarantee of success.
I absolutely need to leave this job. And the sooner the better.
But I keep looking at how comfy-cushy it is, how safe and warm and inviting, and I keep wondering if that’s the right decision. Whatever I get next will have a learning curve. I’ll have to navigate a new schedule. I’ll have to stand up for myself. I’ll have to scrimp and save and cut back to keep our ends meeting.
So many scary things! But every time I look at them, every time they rear up, it’s only more reason to go and do it. I have always been afraid of complacency, of letting myself get used to the status quo and stop reaching, but I’ve been doing that for the better part of a year now. There are a dozen really good reasons to stay. But stagnation is a big enough reason to leave.