My life has never changed more rapidly than in the last six weeks.
I quit two jobs, was homeless, moved, started a new job, opened up a new credit card, cried a lot. My appearance was at best “dumpy” and “frazzled.” I worried constantly that I was doing the right thing, taking the right chances, moving forward.
When I saw that I was giving up everything, even time for dinner and a decent bedtime, for a “job” that wasn’t appreciating my efforts, nor was even what I wanted to do with my life, I knew it was time to get out. I even missed my old, 50hr a week, 6am manager job.
I realized that my happiness was more important, not to mention my emotional, mental, and physical stability. I was losing who I was. But it wasn’t all bad: it led to meeting a client that I now get to focus all of my time and energy on, even if I’m only with them part time and making half of the pay I used to. But I get to use my brain and creativity and writing skills. Yes!
As exciting as it is, I still have bills to pay, I still have the constant worry and struggle that I won’t be able to supplement my income with freelance work or editing on the side. It’s hard, but it’s something I’ve always wanted to do. A year ago, when I finished my MFA program and took a job as a manager, I told myself I’d leave it in a year to pursue writing. I’m still surprised I did. So now’s the time to put myself out there, call myself a full-fledged writer, and get to work.