I have given up the day job; today is my last day at the office. Although I’ve spent as long there as I did at university, neither the job nor leaving it feels momentous in the way matriculating and graduating did. In my head it was always a temporary job, you see, despite evidence to the contrary.
In fact it’s not strictly true that I’ve given up the day job. Really I’ve just swapped it, since I will now be looking after my beautiful baby niece a few days a week. But not only is this part time, giving me more time to concentrate on writing, babysitting is also more conducive to writing than an office job – especially during her two hour nap. Even when she’s awake she’s wonderfully portable, and can come with me if I need to meet someone or even go to the library. I’ve found a baby opens doors, both in the literal sense (you’ve really got to watch her) but also with booksellers.
So now I really have to commit myself to my writing career, and the uplifting but also scary truth is that I can nevermore say I didn’t have a go. I’ve left safe predictability behind, and I may crash and burn, but you never know – I may discover I can fly.
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