Friday, July 6, 2012
Summer of my Discontent
I'm not quite sure how I'm going to go about liberating myself from desks and lawyers and 9-5 responsibilities, but it will happen. I'm 48 now. I'm giving myself until my 50th birthday (unless I can achieve it sooner) to transition from office to workroom doing something that I love.
Right now I'm spinning with ideas, none of which I think will make me enough money to get by. And because I'm not 20-something, like Kenneth and Diana were when they started out, I can't just stop what I'm doing and throw myself at it head on. Much as I'd like to. I have 10 cats, 2 chickens, a mortgage and a man who understands a lot but who might not understand suddenly carrying all the bills while I go merrily off to follow my bliss.
But I've been thinking, and I know how much I need to make to live comfortably, and it's less than I'm making now. This is combat pay, money to keep me semi-content and glued to my chair doing something that means less and less every single day. No one in my office is happy with their work, and I'm tired of being part of that crowd.
(And I admit, more than a small part of me would like to get out of the city, move us to a smaller house with enough ground for me to have chickens and goats and plant everything that it strikes me to plant, and see what comes of that, but that's a dream for another day. I think.)
It's amazing that just setting that 50 or bust deadline made me smile at work for the first time in ages.
And it scared them, seeing me smile.
I like that.