I hardly know where to begin. Usually, one would say, “begin at the beginning,” but I believe the curtain opened on this tale over two years ago. I doubt any of you want to sit through a story that goes on for that long, even if I did provide snacks and potty breaks.
So, I’ll begin at the end, which as we all know is just another beginning.
I quit my job.
Or maybe I was fired. The details are still a bit hazy at this point, but it doesn’t really matter. The bottom line is that I am voluntarily unemployed.
Mentally, I checked out at my job months ago. Day after day, I would sit at my desk and try to will myself to do what I was paid to be doing, but my brain refused to engage. My co-workers would be buzzing around me while I sat there motionless. For eight hours a day, I was an empty husk of a person warming a chair. Work piled up around me and I couldn’t even muster up the energy to care. I do feel bad about that. I know people are cursing my name right now as they clean up the mess I left behind. As much as that pains me to think about, I know that my leaving was the right decision.
I now know perfectly well what people mean when they say, “I hit a wall.” I didn’t just hit it, I ran full throttle into it and was knocked unconscious.
No, that’s not right.
I was knocked fully aware.
I may not know exactly what I am going to do, but I know exactly what I absolutely can not do any longer. That’s half the battle, isn’t it?
Currently, I am vacillating wildly between manic glee and heart-stopping terror. But at least I am feeling something. I was a zombie sitting at a desk for so long that any emotion is welcome at this point.
Well, I’ll need to find some source of income seeing as how I was the sole bread-winner in my family (did I fail to mention that my husband is still in school and doesn’t have a job? yeah, that’s where some of the terror I’m feeling is coming from). First and foremost, though, I will write. I will finish my novel. I will see my dream finally actualized (that’s the manic glee part).
Wish me luck?