Today was the first anniversary of my hire (at the job I am now scheming to quit). Fittingly, I spent the whole morning feeling like I was going to puke. Just after noon, I collected my belongings, stumbled out into the rain, and fell into a taxicab to be carted home.
Vile illness aside, it’s apparently weeklong celebration:
Monday, I was told that the office sociopath (a.k.a. T-Rex, Cruella de Ville, the Ice Queen) has finally, at long last, gotten the axe. The fact that I will no longer have to work with the woman who has mercilessly tortured me and my coworkers for 365 days is almost the greatest anniversary present I could have asked for.
Tuesday, I got a call from a major publisher of travel guidebooks. I’ve lined up an interview to talk about writing a guide for my home state, which is (conveniently) where I want to relocate by this summer. Despite the pithy pay, it’d be a solid enough gig to a freelance gig strong enough to lure me out of my day job. And it could make my yurt on the Haw River a reality…!
And now (Wednesday), I’ve just learned that my proposal to barter my marketing and production skills for a series of yoga classes next year is actually going to fly. This means I can delve into deeper study without breaking the bank … and that I can actually apply my skills to something a little more meaningful.
What will the rest of the week bring?
