Four Days and counting …
Thursday is my last day in work. From then on, I write for a living. At the end of every single month since I was eighteen – almost twenty years – I’ve had a pay cheque. End of December, that changes forever.
I can’t wait.
I’ve always wanted my own study with a wall of books, my book covers framed on the walls and a nice view into the garden. After a weekend building book shelves and generally tidying up, I now have that.
Dream come true.
In a way it all feels a little unreal, especially the fact that I’m going to be leaving the building where I’ve been working for seventeen years – and many people I’ve been working with for that long as well.
Unreal, but fantastic.
Will I miss my job? No. I’ll miss the people I work with, that’s about all.
Things are about to change. I’ll be at home writing every day of the week, and if everything goes according to plan … I may become prolific.
They say a change is as good as a rest, but I’m a horror writer. There’s no rest for the wicked.
Here’s to the future.
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