This number isn't pulled entirely out of thin air. Two thousand days, more or less (and I'll admit I've not added it up with any huge degree of accuracy), will bring us to my fortieth birthday. As a special present to myself, I intend to get off the treadmill of the nine-to-five day job and instead hop aboard the from-coffee-a.m.-to-why-am-I-still-awake-p.m. rollercoaster of freelancery.
I've given myself this long-date deadline for several reasons. One: I ain't ready to do it now. With two kids and a student husband, it is completely the wrong time to abandon a nice stable job. Two: I like deadlines. I work well to them. Giving myself some tangible date to aim for will make me more likely to stick to it. And three: by making a public declaration, like so, I hope my friends and family will spend the run-up to my fortieth birthday asking me pointed questions about how my quest for job-independence is going.
As prosaic as it is, I also need time to save up a monetary cushion. I'm under no illusions about my ability to pay the bills by my writing talent alone. I'm hoping that in +/- five-and-a-half years I'll be in a position of relative stability (touch wood) where it wouldn't cripple my family if I became a penniless hack.
So there it is--my public declaration. By the end of 2019, I will have quit my day job and become a full time writer. Anyone reading this: I'm relying on you to remind me of this, in case I attempt to wuss out nearer the time. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment