Three weeks ago, I told the Public Defender of Contra Costa county that I would be leaving the office.  I had worked as a deputy public defender for about a year, and I had a promising future there.  But the job had its ups and downs.  At times it was the most uplifting, sublimely satisfying work I could ever imagine doing and at other times it was the most emotionally brutal, grueling thing I have ever experienced.  So I decided to try my hand at something completely different.

A friend of a friend runs an Alfa Romeo shop in the East Bay, and he offered me a part-time, $15/hr position working on some of his personal racecars.  ”Hooray!”  I thought.  ”This could be my first step towards becoming Shinya Kimura or Roland Sands!  Rather than a lifetime of bickering with DAs and judges I’m going to spend my days coaxing beauty out of steel and copper and aluminum.”  So I accepted the position, put in notice at CoCo, and switched to (even) cheaper beer and wine.

Court starts in seventeen minutes.  Believe it or not, there is court on Christmas Eve, and my stalwart colleagues (love you guys, keep up the good fight) are heading over there right now.  Normally I would be pulling on a suit, selecting a tie, and wondering which case I was going to be spending the next week selling to a jury.  But not today.  Today I’m sitting in bed in my pajamas trying to write something interesting about this transition.

So what now?  Did I quit my job so that I could blog about quitting my job?  No!  One reason I decided to make this leap is because I felt that I was working too many hours and didn’t have enough left over to pursue non-work related goals.  You may recall the Triple Crown: my über goal of crossing three milestones by the time I turn 30: win a trial (check), win a ring fight (I eat nothing but fried food), and podium a race (all my cars and bikes are broken).  And I have other goals too: there are lots of vehicles I want to own and build, many famous roads and racetracks I want to drive, and many high-level fabrication skills that I want to learn.  In theory this decision is about attaining those goals.  All of them.

Many people have told me that they thought my decision to leave the office was “courageous.”  I think they’re wrong.  It takes little courage to leave a job; even a coward can quit.  The courageous part, the difficult part, will be pushing myself towards my new goals now that I’ve wandered off the beaten path and into the woods.  For the past 26 years I’ve been climbing a tall, tall ladder: do well in grade school, get into a good college, get into a top graduate school, get a good job, etc etc.  I was good at it; it was safe.  Now I’ve decided to spread my wings and push off into the void.

Let’s hope I can fly.