The end. Also known as "the beginning."
A few months ago, I quit my subtitling job of four years for a slightly more lucrative position at an online mall. "Editorial Assistant" was good for the ego, and granted me the financial security that allowed Fridays off for writing projects. Some of you envied me. Others applauded the move; I was finally moving up in the big bad workplace world.
But something was off. I was going through the motions, dragging myself to work every day. My daily routine felt destructive to my spirit. I operated in a state of defeat, mourning stunted creativity and envious of those who thrived at their day jobs. I just wanted to write.
Fast-forward to last Wednesday.
When I left the office on September 16th, I left it for good. I said goodbye to my "grass is greener" gig with no backup plan. I am free-falling career-wise, and I'm excited to see where I land. But maybe insanity does that to a person.
I've known this for a long time: None of my dreams line up with conventional 9-to-5-ness. And at 26, I'm already weary. I'm tired of having those dreams nag at me. Of having tiny regrets start to creep into my daily life. I don't want to sit back in 20 years and ask myself why I didn't just quit my job and go for it.
So I quit my job. And I'm going for it.
I'm a writer. The kind who likes to see "By Nadine Bells" printed alongside her words. I have a unique voice, but I never market myself. I'm not sure why. I'm about to find out. And I have a million little ideas swirling around in my head that I've never pursued, mostly for a lack of available time. Well, I have time now. No money, but time. And time IS money. So really, I'm set. And I'm already comfortable with the idea that most of you won't understand this life upheaval. That's okay. To the few who do, I love you. Honestly. I could hug and kiss you all. Right. Now. (Or maybe give you an awkward high-five. Whatever.)
This is also my opportunity for that life makeover that everyone secretly wants. No more excuses. My schedule is what I make it. Already I'm penciling in regular exercise, time with God, healthy-meal prep time, piano breaks and jaunts to my local library.
I'm starting to feel alive again. And that's priceless.
My name is Nadine and I'm a freelance writer.
P.S. Will write for rent money.
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4 comments:
Sage advice: I tell people all around me..."God puts food on my table...not Canada Post'.
Hope this becomes your tag line...
Wow, a big step forward in faith.. I can't imagine what this would be like for you. I'll be praying for you about this!
Sounds very exciting. Pencil me in. Will you be going to the Word on the Street on Sunday? Definitely work related.
Wow! How exciting!! How terrifying!! I have made a mental note to add you to my prayer list. I have also made a mental note to start a prayer list. You are just the type of person that I'd love to support, but unfortunately I enjoy writing too much to pay someone else to do it for me...
In fact, I've had a few people over the past several months inform me that I ought to write professionally. But what the hey would people pay me to write about - the fact that the term "freelance" must have an etymology relating to the knights of the middle ages? That will be $5 please.
In other words, I'm super-jealous! How I would love to have time for regular exercise, time with God, healthy-meal prep time, piano breaks (and guitar breaks and harmonica breaks) and jaunts to my local library and so many other things. How cool it must be to be a wild, free-spirited twenty-something (http://www.theonion.com/content/news/wild_unattached_twenties_spent_at).
You have inspired me to continue my pursuit of punkrockstardom. Now all I need is a band...
-Josh
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