Flying solo: Year one
So yesterday marked the one-year anniversary of my first-ever “sorry-we-have-to-let-you-go” meeting, and tomorrow is the anniversary of my last actual day of corporate employment. (Today, then, marks a year since I wrote this, which was a weird day, because technically, still being employed, that means I got paid to sit at home and blog about losing my job.)
Honestly, I thought I’d have more to write about it, since it’s been on my mind as the first day of spring has neared and I’ve been going over paperwork and pay stubs and receipts and things like that for tax filing, but now that it’s here, it feels very much like any other day. Jenn left for work at 5:30 a.m. I got up at 6:15, got Kelsey off to school, checked email and news and blogs, had breakfast, turned in one assignment and started wrapping up the next one.
That this workday rhythm feels not at all extraordinary to me, I now realize, is an incredibly good thing.
In fact, the only other thing I want to make sure I note at this point is that there is no way I could possibly have survived this sea change without my friends and family and parents and my daughter Kelsey and most of all my wife Jenn, who never failed for a second to find the good in all this, despite the stress and worries and uncertainty and instability.
Though I have often described my freelance writing career as “flying solo,” the truth is, it never has been that at all.