A Writer's Life

One year ago, I worked my last day.  I clocked out and walked out of the building that I went everyday, whether I wanted to go or not.  I walked away from a good paying job with benifits. Why? I wanted to write.  I have been saying for years.  I just want to take a year off and write.  That never happened.  Then as I got older, yet to young to collect Social Security, I was getting tired.  I was to tired to write on my days off.   One day, I was standing around, looking at my co-workers.  They were not happy.  They were there for the same reason I was, the paycheck.  There has to be more to life than just working. I worked.  I saved money.  I could not see myself here until society told me I could quit working.  So I decided that if I was going to write the books I wanted to write, then now is the time. I quit my job.  I gave them a one week notice.  I quit and I didn't look back....

I no longer employed.  Saturday was my last day at a job that I worked for 27 years.  I walked away from a good paying job with benefits and health insurance.  Why would I do that?  Why would anyone walk away from a secure job with benefits? It was now or never.  I came to a point in my life that I would rather just die than work one more day at a job that was sucking the life out of me. It was a good job, but by the time I got to my two days off, I was so tired, I slept on my days off.  I never felt good.  I was exhausted.  I new what books I wanted to write.  I was writing long hand at work.  I have stacks of pages written in longhand, when I got home I was to tired to type the pages into the computer. I was miserable.  Society says that we have to work 40 hours a week and work until we are 65-67 years old.  I knew for a fact that I would not make working until I was 62 let along 67.  I physically or mentally will ...