How Much is Your Happiness Worth?

If you had to put a price tag on your happiness, how much would it be worth?

I work in a tall office building in downtown Atlanta. OK, it’s not really that tall, but it is one of the buildings you see in most pictures of the Atlanta skyline.

Today, I was waiting for the elevator with several other people - all staring at the floor waiting to get back to the solitude of their offices. To bury themselves in numbers and reports - away from having to interact with other people. A vibrant woman suddenly joined the crowd of waiters. 

Her energy and positive attitude were in stark contrast to the worker robots who were standing around me. I looked at her and smiled. She smiled back and then loudly said, “Hi there, pretty lady.” Very loudly. Everyone looked up from the floor at me.

I am very self conscious and I don’t like attention. I was quite embarrassed and have to admit that I was happy when the elevator doors finally opened and I could sneak my way into the back. She was going down and the rest of us were going up. 

Once we were all safely in the confines of the elevator, I was shocked by what the worker bees started saying. They were laughing at this happy woman for being so happy. They said that she must have taken happy pills that the rest of us should steer clear of. They joked how annoying she was to be so energetic, and how they’re glad she doesn’t work in their department - they wouldn’t know how to handle her enthusiasm all day. 

I stood in the back of the elevator in stunned silence.

For me, my job has been unbearable since my first week. I know my job sucks. I know it has slowly whittled away at my own enthusiasm. There have been moments where I feel like this stupid job is slowly killing me. At least killing my spirit.

But still, I couldn’t believe that people employed by the same company would be laughing at a woman who was so outwardly happy. How sad. How pathetic.

I know I need to get the hell out of there.

But then my mind goes back to the current state of our economy. The fact that we’re in the worst job market in most of our lifetimes. The fact that there are so many people who would be grateful to have a job, any job, makes me feel guilty that I hate mine so much.

So, how much is your happiness worth?

For me, it’s no longer worth money. Yes, I do like my paycheck. But, it’s no longer what I seek in life to make me happy.

At one time, I did. 

Back when I was working for a wage of something like $5.00 an hour, I was money hungry. I needed money to pay my bills. To stay afloat. I didn’t have an emergency fund or high credit limits on credit cards to help me in a bind. I had a paycheck and had to strictly budget my money until the next paycheck came in.

It’s been about 5 years now since I haven't had to live paycheck to paycheck. I worked my ass off for years - at the sacrifice of my personal life, relationships, and health - to climb to corporate ladder. I worked damn hard to earn that extra zero at the end of my salary. 

My 20s were spent working 12 hour plus days with no social life and friends who got tired of my repeated, “I’m sorry I have to cancel again, but I have to work late” excuses.

Once I reached a certain amount of income, it didn’t matter anymore. It’s like you hit a threshold where you’re comfortable financially and the rest is just icing on the cake. Don’t get me wrong - I like my salary. I like the freedom it offers. But, is it really worth my happiness?

After years of neglecting my personal life to get ahead in my career, I’m seriously thinking about walking away. I know, I know... most people would keep their mouths shut, keep pushing the paper, keep checking job responsibilities off the ever-growing list to collect a salary. I get it.

But, I am no longer that person. I can’t continue to do something that feels so wrong in every fiber of my being. 

You know how you go on a first date with a guy who seemed nice when you agreed to meet him, but you get there and the pit of your stomach tells you to get out of there? Fast! Something doesn’t feel right? 

That’s how my job feels to me. The longer I stay there, the worse I feel. The more life I feel it’s sucking out of me. The harder it is for me to keep my mouth shut and to trudge home every night feeling like a human punching bag. 

I can’t do it anymore.

So, how much money would you need to have in order to walk away? A 6 month emergency fund? 1 year? 2 years? 

It would be ideal to tell my employer to shove it when I had an offer letter in hand from another company. But, it hasn’t worked out that way for me yet. Do I resort to staying there until they finally break me? Or, do I take a major risk and walk away without knowing when the next job or opportunity will come along?

I think I’m going to walk away. Next month. I’m going to live off of my savings for awhile until I can figure the rest out. I’m thinking about starting my own consulting company. Maybe I’ll make a third (or less) of what I make now and I’m okay with that. The rewards I’ll gain in return are worth far more than money.

I look forward to being able to sleep in for awhile. To read books all day for a little while. Just a little while. To visit family that I keep promising I’ll come to visit. To reconnect with myself and what I want to do with my life. To be my own boss. To make my own rules.

Am I scared? Hell yes I’m scared. But, I have to trust that I will make it work. I was able to survive making nothing-per-hour when I was 18, with no savings to fall back on. So, I’m grateful to be in a position now where I can rely on the good old emergency fund to cover me for awhile.

It does feel weird though to be so willing to give up the extra zero that I worked so hard for. That I sacrificed so much for. But, I know I don’t want to be one of those worker robots I rode the elevator with today - who wake up in 30 years and have no spirit left in them. Who laugh at people who have the nerve to show happiness. 

That won’t be me. To me, that’s not worth any number of zeros. 

How much is your happiness worth?