Yes, but I last did it when I was 18. I was working at a fast food restaurant, and had worked my way up to a shift manager. We’d lost the college students who were our summer help, and the manager wasn’t bothering to hire anyone. She and I started to get argumentative over it over the course of a few days, as we needed a minimum of four backline people to keep the different work areas running during the chaotic lunch rushes, but we were down to two-- me and the grill guy. Then she gave the grill guy a day off on the day a big lunch sale broke, and then got stressed out and locked herself in the office. I kept up in the back for a couple of hours, but eventually got overwhelmed. Took off my namebadge and tie, placed them in my hat, tossed my work keys in, then knocked on her door. She opened it, I handed it to her and told her I was quitting, effective immediately, and walked out. In the five minutes it took to get home, she managed to leave three or four alternately angry and pleading messages on my answering machine.
Took me three months to get a job (this was during the recession in 1992). I was getting pretty desperate by the time it came along.
I’m seriously considering doing this again in a few months. I have enough in savings to live for a couple of years without working, and I’m getting a BS in math and BA in philosophy this December, with a number of good leads and contacts with grad schools for next fall. I’ve been contemplating quitting (with notice) this December, and not working again until grad school next year.
I’ve done this once. I was working a job for about three months and it was just killing me. My boss was incredibly hostile to me and everyone there was miserable. I was working overnights, which is hard enough, but whenever my boss came in the next day, she’d find a reason to drag me to her office and scream at me. I was sick from stress. There were a huge number of issues and the work itself was very difficult (police dispatcher). I was poorly trained and I was afraid that someone would get hurt or killed because of me. It got to the point where I literally considered crashing my car on the way to work because I was dreading it so badly.
I was pretty much fresh out of college at that point, and I didn’t know how to stand up for myself too well in the workplace. But, at the time, I was just so exhausted. I was working tons of overtime, and I was having sleeping issues, and it was a long commute (over an hour each way). All I did was work and sleep; I didn’t have the time or energy to apply for other jobs, let alone arrange interviews.
I finally came in one day and when the inevitable daily browbeating was about to begin, I gave my notice. She seemed shocked and said “But you’re doing so well!” Psy-cho-path…
I’m glad I did it, but at that point I was living at home, so I didn’t have a huge amount of pressure to make the bills, either.
Yes, because I find it really inconvenient to look for jobs while working full-time, especially since interviews and the like are usually scheduled during working hours.
It was a combination of me being very young and even more impulsive than I am now, and not being serious about the jobs. If I ever got tired of my job or boss, my approach was, “Fuck this; I quit.” Each time I was able to find a replacement job within weeks. I’d never do that now because most of what I have going for me is my reputation and recommendations. Once when I was 20, quitting my job at JC Penney included crude references to her physical appearance and demeanor, and the word “hag.” I um, yeah, I would never do that kind of thing now.
Once, and it was the best decision I’ve ever made. Well, in the top 5 best decisions I’ve ever made to be sure. I was working for an evil company with a long commute where they screwed me over every chance they got and I didn’t fit in with anyone that worked there at all. I turned in my 2 week notice and only worked about 4 days of it because I just couldn’t stomach going there every day any longer. I then took a part time job to cover some bills while I got some additional licenses and ended up in my current job where I am so happy and they treat me like I’m super awesome.
A couple of times. The worst times were in the middle of recessions and it took a while to get another job. The last major time, I had a bunch of money saved up.
Some bosses think they own you, and that you will tolerate any amount of shit just to keep the job. Not me. First I fight back, and if that doesn’t go anywhere, I leave.
Up until 2003 I only left two jobs without having something lined up. I worked in hotels so until then you could always get a job in a hotel.
Prior to that the longest I was ever out of work was four days. I quit my job on Monday at 3pm in Chicago and moved to Florida. I just told my boss, “I’m sick of winter in Chicago.” I drove to Florida and stopped in Marathon, in the Florida Keys on Friday at 10am and got a job there.
First time - I was a unit manager in a bank processing center. I became aware that we we’re paid so little that I would make more money temping. So, I quit and started temping, it was true, I started making more money.
Second time - By this time I was in a professional IT career. My employer had done a series of layoffs, with generous severance packages. However, they always kept me because I was so valuable to them :rolleyes:. My buddies who had been layed-off all found work immediately, and deposited their sizable severance checks. I was not pleased. So, when I heard of a possible new job, I quit. But, the new job did not materialize. ooops. Luckily for me I had money in the bank, eventually I got another job, but it was a pain to be out of work for a while.
That is really admirable. One of my career goals in life is to have enough marketable skills that I can take 6-24 months off and travel/camp/visit and still break back into the workforce when I’m done.
As it stands, especially in this economy, if I quit a job it’ll be a year of desperate searching before another opens up.
Yes, at my first job out of college. The boss was a sexually-harassing pig that asked me questions like, “Do you take it up the ass? Do you like it?” everyday and the accountant we called Satan, she was so hostile.
It finally came to a head when the boss invited me back to his place to smoke dope and go naked in his hot tub. When I said no, he turned hostile, to the point of accusing me if theft.
I left my cell, keys and resignation letter on his desk. I felt a HUGE weight lift as I left. I lasted six months.
We are friends with a couple who both have decent professional jobs, no kids, modest tastes and LOVE to travel. So every few years they do just that together - finish their jobs and their lease, put their stuff in storage and take off round the world. Last time they went up to the arctic circle to visit the polar bears … WAY cool!
The great thing about being a couple in your 30’s / 40’s with no kids (apparently) is that when you get back you can waltz into any old real estate agent and say “Hi. We’re a couple with no kids and a couple of decades of rental references. How quickly would you like to fall over your own feet finding us somewhere to live?”
Anyway, my sympathies for the crappy US economy at the moment, but sooner or later it will come good again (and probably we’ll take our turn in the doldrums). Then you can follow your dreams!
I’ve quit one job without having a job lined up ahead of time.
It was Summer 1999, and I was 26, had a computer science degree and 2.5 years of experience. I also had ended up in Houston during the Internet boom / Y2k lead-up, and figured that I should go somewhere where the action was a little hotter, so I moved to the Dallas area.
I was unemployed for 3 months and a few weeks- ended up working at the following job for almost 3 years, and quit to go to graduate school.
Management had been promising us lots of neat travel freebies if we put in some extra hours and did other “extras.” I had been promising my son a trip based on the free tickets I had already “earned.”
Then management reneged. Pissed me off.
I took my personal items off my desk and told them I fucking quit.
I was highly marketable then. I could’ve had another job that afternoon if I had wanted. Instead, I took a month off before going back to work.
Later, I saw my former manager at an industry function. Seems she had been demoted while I had taken over as the manager at another company. Yeah, I gloated.
Twice, once more than a decade ago when I walked out spontaneously when my boss called me into his office to condescendingly begin cataloging my alleged faults: I took too long to climb the stairs in the morning (even though I was always early), he didn’t like the smell of the yogurt I ate at lunch (I was required to eat in the office) and my shoes (regular penny loafers) made too much noise on the cheap linoleum floors.
The second time was last month, when I walked away from BP. I was planning on it anyway, because I’m going back to school, but I moved the timetable up a bit, for obvious reasons.
I’ll be going back to school in January. For now, I’m enjoying my time off.
I walked out of my first job in about 1987, at a 7-11, after at least a couple of years, because I just couldn’t fucking STAND the owner’s wife for one more second. He called me and asked me to come back, but I just couldn’t. Goddamn bitch.
I’ve worked four jobs, and all but the first have been in the city, meaning I travelled up to 3 hours round-trip to get to them, which wouldn’t be so excessive except they were all retail jobs that I could have easily done in my home suburb - but I hate my suburb so much that it was worth it. Mostly…
I worked at a newsagent right outside the biggest train station in Brisbane, which wasn’t a great job but it was okay. During a “shake-up” I was moved to a different newsagent a few streets over, a little kiosk on the side of the street. That was actually better, it was more interesting, I could listen to the radio and it was always busy. Then I was moved to a similar kiosk, except this time I was in one of those side-kiosks you see as you walk down the shopping centre, tucked into the corner and only selling limited stock. This was really, really boring - no radio, never busy, and I was the only person working in the store.
I must say I was never a great employee - um, I was caught reading a book once - and I was 18 and like, totally not caring. They tried to send us for “lotto training” at a place way over on the other side of the city (so even further for me to travel) and weren’t going to pay us because apparently lotto training is a skill we can use in our life away from newsagency work, which is of course, complete bullshit. So I was onto the government workplace-people-who-take-care-of-employees association and managed to get us all paid. I was something of a hero among the workers but management ramped up the asshole factor so much (even when I swear I was actually doing a good job and not reading any books at all) that the whole situation became such a heavy mixture of boring, irritating and depressing (all my friends were at university and I was working at a newsagent), that I suddenly decided to quit with nothing lined up at all.
So then I entered this period of about five months where I spent all day applying for jobs, watching The View and following the 2008 US election, and was just getting nowhere. I was down to the last fifty dollars in my bank account (I live with my parents so it wasn’t desperate times, just unsatisfying) when I finally got a full-time job at a university bookstore, which allowed me to save up enough to study this year without working. It all worked out pretty good in the end and I don’t really regret leaving. As you may have guessed I’m not really into being a retail worker.
And that’s the story of my life up until this very minute.
Twice. The first time, it was the right decision. The second time I will regret for the rest of my career.
The first time, I left a postdoc after about 2 months. It became obvious that the lab was collapsing and the only project I was interested in was going to be the first to go. I jumped ship and moved in with my parents while I found another job. That took about 2 months and the new job was great.
The second time I left a tenure-track position basically because I was really depressed (though I didn’t recognize it at the time). The gap in employment took a huge toll on my resume and I’ll probably be explaining it for at least 5 years, if not 10. I’m in the middle of a 4 year rebuilding process to get back to where I was when I had that job. I really should have stuck it out for another academic year and looked for a position while I had a job.
