On July 31, 2009—29 days before my 40th birthday—I walked away from my job. Period. No new job lined up, no clear idea of what to do next and only the flimsiest of plans for supporting myself. Just a need to step off the ledge—not to go “splat,” but as a leap of faith. I could see it in my mind's eye—the wind in my hair, arms wide open. Freedom.
I had been depressed for 5 years. 5.
And I had had it.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Monday, July 19, 2010
Monday, January 05, 2009
Sometimes I miss my office
Who am I kidding? I ALWAYS miss my office.
Late last April, I left a reporting job I’d been at for almost 3 years. It was my first—and most likely only—job with an office.
And it was great. Who wouldn’t happily abandon cubicle-land for their own office? I had a window. With a view of….the side of Union Station!! Woo hoo! And if I squished the left side of my face up to the window and craned my neck, I could look up First Street and see the Capitol dome. Or, closer by, the every-other-week convergence of emergency vehicles for yet another unattended package in the train station. And who could forget the summer of striking, chanting, workers and their giant inflatable rat?
Bnd it wasn’t just the view. I could hang some nice pictures, turn my music up pretty loud (actually I sometimes used to do this in cubicles too), put my feet up on my desk, and shop online without looking over my shoulder. In short, I had a DOOR. Pretty damn handy. Because even in at a company with a “nap room” and all sorts of wellness programs, lying down on the floor to meditate (and no that’s not a euphemism for sleep) in a cubicle is pretty awkward.
Late last April, I left a reporting job I’d been at for almost 3 years. It was my first—and most likely only—job with an office.
And it was great. Who wouldn’t happily abandon cubicle-land for their own office? I had a window. With a view of….the side of Union Station!! Woo hoo! And if I squished the left side of my face up to the window and craned my neck, I could look up First Street and see the Capitol dome. Or, closer by, the every-other-week convergence of emergency vehicles for yet another unattended package in the train station. And who could forget the summer of striking, chanting, workers and their giant inflatable rat?
Bnd it wasn’t just the view. I could hang some nice pictures, turn my music up pretty loud (actually I sometimes used to do this in cubicles too), put my feet up on my desk, and shop online without looking over my shoulder. In short, I had a DOOR. Pretty damn handy. Because even in at a company with a “nap room” and all sorts of wellness programs, lying down on the floor to meditate (and no that’s not a euphemism for sleep) in a cubicle is pretty awkward.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Public reading and writing service announcement no. 554:
Words like "synthesize," "synergize," "utilize" or any "ize" for that matter, do not make your writing more magically delicious. They do not make you sound bolder, cooler, smarter or more interesting. But they do make you sound lamer and cheesier.
So please don't sprinkle these words throughout your compositions like so many pieces of Lucky Charms. They're plastic, artificial, crappy little colored marshmallows--not gold nuggets.
And they rot your brain. Or at least your teeth.
Signed,
One cranky writer
So please don't sprinkle these words throughout your compositions like so many pieces of Lucky Charms. They're plastic, artificial, crappy little colored marshmallows--not gold nuggets.
And they rot your brain. Or at least your teeth.
Signed,
One cranky writer
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)