The good news is that I've been wishing for more time to work on my blog and creative writing. The bad news is that I've got it. By the freaking bucketload.
The Crain's corporate axe swung down from Detroit this week, whistling through the air over Lake Erie and landing with a thunk square in the middle of my desk in Cleveland. (Multi-headed blade that it was, it stuck itself in three colleagues' desks, too.)
It made for a surreal Wednesday afternoon in the newsroom and an evening at home spent with a legal pad and pencil within arm's reach at all times so I could jot down names, ideas and reminders as they came. I made several phone calls in which I found myself repeating assurances to and accepting encouragement from friends and family and hoping I truly believe it all myself.
I managed to go to bed before 11 p.m., but found myself wide awake from 1 to 3 a.m. today, then up again at 6:15 when my daughter got up to go to school.
And then the house was empty but for me, four cats and a dog. (And a couple hermit crabs, but they pretty much keep to themselves unless they smell us cooking spaghetti, in which case they're like tiny lions chasing prey. No, not really.)
"Well, well… Here we are." (Jobs come and go, but oh, Breakfast Club, I know you'll never leave me wanting for a suitable quote.)
So now begins a multi-level campaign to find work, hit the phone call and email circuit with a vengance, and (even more) shamelessly promote "Collect All 21!" and "Crossing Decembers." (And to start right in on the former, I've got some cool news about some updates to the project. But not yet…not…yet.)
Things could be worse. Far, far worse.
I'm blessed to have a brilliant and fully-employed wife and a healthy daughter and a complete lack of sharp wooden objects jammed into my nasal cavity. And for a writer looking for project work, I could have done worse than spending the past four years working a business beat which covered a huge swath of the advertising, marketing and PR industry across Northeast Ohio. (Friends, former sources and contacts: You are hereby notified that I'll likely be getting in touch, and you can finally talk as far off-the-record as you want.)
I've got no excuses now not to buckle down and go after that WordPress install I've been itching to try, write that list of blog entries I've got scribbled in a notebook, revamp Fieldsedge.com, get more into the workings of Ubuntu and the intimidating-yet-alluring Linux Command Line, and get my office fully re-organized.
Oh, and find someone else to pay me to write. Yeah, that too.
I actually had to take a 23-minute break after that last sentence, because even though I knew what I was calling this post, suddenly I got a mental smack of reality, and I needed to fight it with a dose of the final episode of "Sports Night," which did the trick nicely, thanks.
Quo vadimus: Where are we going?
Time to find out.