The morning after I quit my job at MarketSphere, I woke up feeling a strange mixture of liberation and anxiety. As I sat at my kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee and staring at my phone, I couldn't help but second-guess my decision. Had I been too hasty? Too idealistic? The practical part of my brain was screaming about bills and career progression, but my heart felt lighter than it had in months.
My phone buzzed, startling me out of my reverie. It was a message from Vanessa:
"Hey Stella, how are you holding up? Things are crazy here. Can we meet for coffee?"
I hesitated for a moment before replying:
"Sure, Vanessa. How about the little café on 5th Street in an hour?"
Her response came quickly: "Perfect. See you there."
As I got ready to leave, I couldn't help but wonder what Van
