Keep the cheese...
I’ve been officially out of the rat race for a month.
While I’ve been popping out the resumes and researching ‘day’ jobs, I’ve pretty much decided I don’t want to be a rat anymore. How does the saying go? Even if you win, you’re still vermin.
That’s not saying I won’t work hard at whatever my next job is. I will. If I’m true to form, I’ll work too hard. But chasing the elusive cheese in a rat race is not how I want to spend the rest of my days on the third rock.
There’s more to life.
One benefit: After an initial dry spell (caused as best as I can tell by the upheaval in my life) I’m writing a lot. One of my long-range goals is to make a living wage writing fiction. When the time comes, traditional ‘retirement’ would likely put me in the ground in six months or less. I need something to pour myself into. That “reason to get out of bed.” Fiction does that.
Keep the cheese, please …the rat days are over.
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