Almost a year ago I decided to quit the job I'd had for close to three years. There were many factors involved, but mostly I realized that I was giving a company that didn't care a wit about me more than I was getting from it. The big economic boom everyone was talking about wasn't touching me at all. I was working crappy hours for bad pay, no benefits and no sense of satisfaction--only the sense that I was getting screwed. At the time, I thought it was just me. I was in a situation I had to get out of, and I finally worked up the cajones to leave.

Since then I've noticed that it wasn't just me, but rather a large section of my generation (represented immediately to me by my friends) that had this problem. We did what they told us (graduated from college, got a job, stuck around for a while) and found out that they were lying.

Last week a friend from high school called to make sure it was okay to use me as a reference (he worked with me on the magazine called Lies I ran for a few years) because he'd quit his job. He was in the mental health field (the sensible occupation for a guy with a psychology degree) dealing with crazy adults. Before he worked with crazy adults, he worked with crazy children. I say crazy because these were people with mental problems that no one wanted to deal with (parents, family, children, etc.) so they were stuck in homes. And most of them weren't so happy about it. Watch One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest and then tell me if this is a place you want to be at for a long time.

My friend graduated from college in mid-1994 and worked with these crazy types pretty much from then until a month or so ago. He's scrambling a bit now, but once things settle down he'll feel better than he's felt in years.

I think the best thing about quitting my job was that I finally could sleep an entire night at a time. I didn't have to split sleep five hours here and there (and some nights not really getting any because I would constantly dream about not being able to sleep), basically living two days each day. One day at work and then another day after I got up from an extended afternoon nap. Sleeping is the best cure for just about everything, and I'm glad I can sleep again.

One of the guys I work with is in the same state of mind I was last summer. He's worked at his job for over two years, and while his situation isn't really as dire as my mental health friend (or myself at my last job), he doesn't understand why he's working where he is. And he definitely doesn't want to be there. Last week he made this abundantly clear to everyone at work, lashing out and then retreating into the solace of his office. When I asked when he was going to quit, he basically said it would be a while (I'm betting he's still there at the end of the year). So he's still in a bit of denial. And he's afraid.

There's a big world out there, and when you're in a place you're used to, it's hard to leave. Even if the situation is the worst hell hole on the face of the earth, it's still comfortable in a way. It's still like moving out of your parents house after high school. You know it has to happen, but you also know it's going to hurt and it won't be pretty.

I've come to characterize this state of mind as the mid-20s freakout. Basically it's realizing that you are in charge of your life--even though it feels like your boss is really the one in charge. It's understanding that the giant leap is a risk, but it's necessary. You have to start over because the game you're playing isn't working anymore (if it ever did at all). I don't think it happens to everyone at the same time--and some people miss it entirely.

Douglas Coupland's seminal novel Generation X is about people who had their freak and are living a different life. Not the good life, but not the life they had when they worked in "McJobs" and dreamed about cubicles. I wonder if the appeal of Dilbert to older corporate people is that they understand the copy machine life (every day is a carbon copy of the last) and don't want to leave. People my age see this as a waste (eventually) and try to change. There is no team to believe in so why try to be a team player?

The controversial Fight Club (book and movie) has many of the same points. We're a bunch of automatons working for money to buy crap we don't need. The method for change is a little different (the guys kept their jobs, but on Saturday nights beat the crap out of each other), but the need for change is real. The need to feel alive is real.

Even though I stepped into another office job two months after leaving the last one, I have a little different perspective this time. I know I'll need to change--to leave--in a few years. I know I'll probably get a job in an entirely different industry. I'm feeling my rhythms, and I know this will be necessary.

There are millions of us in our 20s killing ourselves for the benefit of a very few. They throw words like "tradition" and "consistency" and "loyalty" at us to make us stay where we are. But realize this: if they had a chance, they would drop us on a dime for the big payoff. Don't listen to them, listen to yourself.

It's okay to freak. Because we're all just a bunch of freaks--in the freak.

Matt Worley believes that when his generation gets control, they'll screw up the world at least as much as the previous one.