Note: This post first appeared at my old blog, Far Above Rubies, on May 8, 2012. ~Li
As I mentioned, somewhat in passing a couple of weeks ago, I resigned from my full time job. It was hard. So very hard that three weeks later, I still feel at a loss for words. It’s not because I loved my job. Because quite frankly, I had no warm feelings towards it. The people- my boss, the coworkers and the students I helped, yes, very much so. But the filing, memos and meetings- eh, not so much. It was far better than the previous job, but it was still just a job. I don’t mean that in a disparaging way. If it weren’t for those jobs, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I’m extremely grateful for them. I mean they weren’t part of the career I had mentally laid out to be a writer. Not a blogger. Not an occasional freelancer. I mean writer. Like in the 20th century sense.
Yesterday, while Z was napping, I re-watched the “Plan B“ episode of “30 Rock“ from last season. One scene stuck out like Rose McGowan standing in a line-up next to Lindsey Lohan, Snooki and the NJ Tanning Mom (why on Earth they’d ever be in a line-up together outside of my mind, I have no clue). Here it is: