Man, 2019 was just killing me. It was one of those years where every single day felt like wading through mud. I mean, I love my job—or at least I used to—but the whole atmosphere had turned sour. I kept looking at the calendar, just waiting for the whole thing to reset. Maybe it’s the Pisces in me, but I really needed a vibe check.
I remember sitting there, scrolling through crap online late one night, and this thing popped up. It was one of those annual forecasts, you know? The title screamed at me: “Career Pisces 2020 Forecast (Must-See Opportunities To Advance).” Usually, I just laugh at that stuff and keep scrolling, but this time, I actually clicked it. I read the whole mess. Most of it was typical nonsense about “trusting my intuition” and “embracing change,” but one specific line hit me right in the gut. It basically said that if I didn’t make a sharp, clean break right at the start of the year, I’d be stuck playing catch-up for the next five.
I thought it was ridiculous. I had a mortgage, I had kids, I had a decent benefits package. Quitting a stable job in early January? Nuts. But the feeling just wouldn’t leave. I went into work the next day and everything was worse. The same dull meetings, the same passive-aggressive emails. I just kept thinking about that line: sharp, clean break.
So I did it. I walked into my boss’s office that Friday, barely two weeks into the new year, and just pulled the plug. I told him I was done. No two-week notice, no big negotiation. I cleaned out my desk on the spot and walked out the door. The look on his face was priceless, a mix of pure shock and pity. He probably thought I lost it completely. Honestly, I thought I had too.
The Great Pause and The Scramble
The first six weeks were pure hell. The “opportunity” the forecast mentioned? That was just debt piling up. I was networking like mad, talking to everyone, but nothing was clicking. I started dipping into savings, feeling sick about it every time. My partner was amazing, but even they were giving me those worried looks. This whole self-proclaimed “advance” was looking like a colossal mistake.
Then, the world changed. Right around late February and into March, the global mess started hitting hard. Suddenly, my old company was scrambling. They weren’t set up for remote work. They had to lay off a third of the staff. The place I had just quit? It was shutting down its main operations. Every single person I knew there who hadn’t jumped ship was now either fighting for a severance package or trying to figure out how to work from a kitchen table with zero support.
I realized I hadn’t made a mistake. I had done the work of getting out before the door was welded shut. It wasn’t the forecast that was right; it was the timing. My early, painful exit had cleared the deck. Now, while everyone else was dealing with corporate chaos, I was already looking forward.
My practice pivoted immediately. I stopped looking for a mirror image of my old job and started focusing on the stuff I had always been good at on the side—that consulting work I’d do for friends.
- I completely rebuilt my contact list, ignoring the old corporate names.
- I spent three weeks teaching myself the new collaboration software everyone was suddenly rushing to use.
- I took tiny, painful contracts just to keep the lights on and prove I could deliver fully remote.
- I learned that the “opportunity” was simply creating my own stability when the world was shaking.
The Real Advance
By late summer, the scramble had turned into traction. I wasn’t just surviving; I was actually setting my own rates and choosing who I wanted to work with. My old colleagues were still sending me DMs about how unfair their new situation was, or how their pay had been cut, or how their projects were getting yanked without warning. They were all still tied to that sinking ship, fighting over the life rafts. They were waiting for someone else to grant them the “advance.”
Me? I didn’t wait. I forced the issue. The forecast didn’t predict the pandemic, obviously, but it nailed the need to act drastically and early. The opportunity wasn’t a gift; it was the empty space I created by walking away from the known path. I turned the forecast into a personal deadline, and that urgency is what saved me.
I’m still working this way now. I work when I want, where I want, and I call the shots. The money is way better, the stress is way lower, and I don’t have to deal with any of the toxic corporate nonsense I saw my old company cling to until the very end. Sometimes you have to make a choice that looks completely crazy in January to realize it was the smartest move you ever made by December.
