A New Beginning

It’s funny. Three weeks ago, I walked into my boss’s office and handed him my letter of resignation. After 10-1/2 years, I had decided that I really had no interest in further cultivating my “career” as an administrative professional. Realistically, I had made that decision a lifetime ago. It just took me a while to gather the courage to actually act on it.

I don’t think it really sunk in until last night when I was laying in bed on the verge of a panic attack that I didn’t have a JOB to get up and go to this morning. I think I had made it calmly through the weekend by tricking myself into believing that I had the week off. I was pretty psyched, because there are so many things I need to get done, and I always thought, “If I just had more free time, I could get everything done!”

I know it seems like I made a rash decision, jumping off the cliff without a parachute. You don’t need a safety net, though, when you firmly believe that you can achieve anything you put your mind to. I do believe that, and it’s my faith in my abilities to get things done, honed from years of getting other people’s things done, that will carry me through the turbulence of starting fresh.

It’s going to be a bumpy ride, but it’s the ride of my life, and I’m so glad I bought that golden ticket!

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The Write Stuff

The thought occurred to me today that for someone who professes to want to be a writer, I don’t write nearly as much as I should, or could.

When I formulated my top goals for 2012, one of them was to “Start Writing.” I use the Toodledo app for my To-Do list. It’s right there in my phone, staring me in the face every time I open up the list. “Start Writing.”

It’s July. Six months have gone by, and I’ve written maybe one piece. I’m no where near where I hoped to be, where I stated I’d be. That bothers me. I’m not one to give up so easily, or to shrink in the face of adversity.

In the Army, I learned to adapt and overcome.

A little adaptation and overcoming is called for now. It’s time to re-vamp that 2012 goal which seems to taunt me every night when I know that I haven’t moved any closer to accomplishment. Here goes:

Start Writing. So simple, really. The goal remains the same. I’m doing it right now. Maybe not with pomp or flair. It’s not perfection, it’s not earth-shattering. Most won’t even know it’s occurred. I will, though, and therein lies the truth.

I’m writing.

Hello world!

Twitter is great for 140 characters. Facebook is fantastic for finding old friends, enemies, and even frenemies. I’ve had accounts on Myspace, hootsuite, tweetdeck, Instagram, Pinterest, LinkedIn, About Me…and countless other social media sites. I’ve had blogs for poetry, gaming, dating, weight loss, and numerous other topics. I’m tired of writing down passwords, looking them up, trying to remember where I wrote them so I can post an inane status update that no one cares about.

I just want to have a place to go where I can jot down a 4- word feeling that I happened to have in the car on the way to work when I managed to not run over one of the many chipmunks with death wishes who think it’s friggin’ hilarious to run out in rush hour traffic.

I really just want a place to write down that epiphany that struck while watching my boy dog flirt shamelessly with that girl dog he had known for less than 12 hours, that adorable girl dog that he had met not more than 5 hours after having his manhood taken away from him.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ll still tweet, when I remember that I have that app. I’ll keep posting status updates on Face Book. Instagram and Pinterest are firmly rooted in my routine of picture posting.

Here, though, here is where I will come to scream, rant, cry, laugh, stretch, sweat, fly, fall, and every other action that needs to be made. Every thought, emotion, feeling that must be freed or else will drive me stark raving mad; this is where I will come to let it all out.

This is where I will come to breathe.