That time I told my wife I wanted to quit my job
&gt; losing the moments I had with my family because my mind was so overloaded and preoccupied with things that ultimately didn&#x27;t f*** matter.<p>12-18 mo after joining most companies in my career, this was my feeling.  It&#x27;s awful.  You literally fight to make things better in a company, to help the company earn a bit more profit.<p>There are the enviable? people who can just work the 9 hours, do the job, not get committed or emotionally invested, and then leave the job when they walk out the door.  But for some of us, there&#x27;s the vision of what could be, and the absurd obstacles preventing us from reaching the what could be.  Even so, the what could be often just means a percent or two more profit for the company.  If you&#x27;re saving babies and solving world hunger, it matters.  If you&#x27;re helping telecom companies recover from problems related to the 1980s billing systems which they never bit the bulled and replaced, it ultimately means nothing.<p>&gt; A weight was lifted off my shoulders.<p>Until you feel this weight, and you walk away, you cannot know what this feels like.  For the author, in such a short sentence, it sounds immediate.  For me, 6 weeks after quitting a permanent contract (which is the kind of guaranteed security we&#x27;re not used to in the US unless you&#x27;re exective with a golden parachute), I&#x27;m finally coming to grips with my freedom.  It&#x27;s like a sponge that has been squeezed into a 1cm cube.<p>If I could give my younger self advice, it would be to NEVER go work for a company unless you were absolutely passionate about their mission.  Never work for the money.  You could work for the money and die rich, never having lived authentically.  Or you could live authentically, rich or poor, and die satisfied.