Today, I did the thing that a writer is never supposed to do.
I quit my day job.
I didn’t exactly plan to, and I’m not, technically out the door, yet. My last day will be 12-1. But as career planning goes, this is kind of like that Buddhist monk with the gas can and the matches. Either I am about to achieve enlightenment and move to a higher plane, while making a major statement that will make the world sit up and take notice…
or I’m going to realize any time now, that this was a really dumb idea, and I’ll be more sorry than I can possibly imagine.
I am an eternal optimist, and am going with the first one. In a job where I never bothered to memorize my work phone number, and have been printing my calender off the internet one month at a time, I really doubt that I was fully committed to making things work.
In the realm of “dumbest thing I ever did” this doesn’t even make the top 10. I’ve done so many dumb things in 45 years, that this isn’t even a blip on the radar. It’s probably not even in the top 5 of the career section, since I’ve got “Working in Theater” and “Quitting theater without having another job lined up” and “All the things I did after theater, while trying to find myself(like secret shopping, and the product purchasing job where I had to send empty food wrappers to Indiana).”
And of course, the clown wig job, and the newspaper route.
Trying to make a living as a writer, really looks kind of sane after the clown wig job. At least I know I won’t be huffing AquaNet.
And good news for anyone reading: I’m about to have a lot more time to blog. Of course, I’ll be blogging about how broke I am, but it will probably be pretty funny in a pathetic sort of way, so stay tuned…