A Bit of a Quiet Thrill

It has been awhile, it's true. At this moment, at most recent moments, my brain is in what I like to call "muted panic mode". Actually "panic" seems too dramatic a word for it. What would be a good word for "panic minus drama"? I always crave change in January and I've gotten it. For better or worse, I've gotten it.

In short, I quit one of my jobs to take a less demanding part time job. It is something I have long daydreamed about, usually around hour 9 of the 13 hour days that were my reality for the past five and a half  years. Like almost everything in life that has a huge buildup in my brain (first kiss, first sex, first speech in front of an audience), the actuality of it was more of a "Oh. Ok I guess that's it then" than a firework-laden screamfest. I suppose that was always going to be the case because when you spend five and a half years of your life in a job and four of those years actively looking for something else, the burn is slow and when it finally gets down to the ash, it can be nothing but a light fluttering away. I've spent a lot of time earning a (comparatively) lot of money and being almost wholly miserable because I felt like a half empty hourglass, no matter what day of the week or what time of day it was. Not to mention that I was still, alarmingly, accruing debt! I am godawful at money. Working a lot of hours, even if it is at an "easy" set of jobs will drain you and all the novelty of having a bit of extra money (at least on paper) will wear off eventually. Or, you know, it will wear off almost immediately and it will take you four years to do something about it.

For whatever it's worth, I did just get a bit of a quiet thrill thinking about having some free time. Even if the plan is to fill up all of my new found free time with work. I mean it will be work that matters to me, but work nonetheless. I think this should be my first tattoo:

That's me on the right.

I'm going to be focusing all available free time on writing, both my own work and trying to build contacts and connections as a freelance writer and copyeditor. I have come to terms with the fact that writing is the only thing I want to do and I'll take it in any capacity. I'm only happy when I'm writing. I'm also truly miserable, excited, sad, nauseated, nervous, ecstatic,  horny, full of dread and angst and joy when I'm writing and I can only deduce that if something makes you feel all of that, you should spend most of your time in its pursuit, no? Anything is preferable to numbness or indifference. I would rather feel disappointment than numb. I would rather care than not care. This might be old hat to many of you but not to me. This is a dang sea change.

I'm excited. Who's excited?