I’ve finished. My Outlook folder is empty and so is my OneDrive. The desk is clean. The security card has been handed in.
The morning tea has been held and speeches given. I’ve exchanged mobile numbers with people who want to stay in touch. My team has been split down the middle, each half handed to an existing manager who I trust. They’ll be fine.
All I need to do now is catch the lift down to Level 1, walk out the door and start this new chapter of my life.
I’m so excited. Writing full-time has been a dream for several years. “One day,” I told myself. I dabbled with online courses, studied creative writing part-time by distance. But then COVID came along and took things up a gear.
Universities were hit hard as the international student market slumped. One Friday afternoon, an email arrived from the Vice-Chancellor, outlining a number of options for staff who wanted to contribute to a cost-cutting drive. I emailed my boss on Monday, offering to work 4 ½ days a week. I did that for six months, and spent Monday mornings journalling, reading and writing, taking the first tentative steps towards life as a writer.
Not long before Christmas, another email arrived with a similar subject. This time I offered to work four days a week. That too was accepted. For the first few weeks, I was on a high. Having a whole day to focus on my writing, while fitting a five-day-a-week job into four, was a buzz. I was more efficient, more focused at work. It was easier to prioritise, easier not to worry about the things that didn’t matter.
I can’t say when that particular tide started to turn. Perhaps it was the onset of winter or talk of a potential restructure. Or just the gradual realisation that I was spending one day a week doing what I loved and four days a week doing something else.
“How was work?” my partner asked each night. I had two possible responses: *sighs loudly* or “OK”. We discussed my frustration, my dream of writing full-time. “I need to save some money first,” I said. We talked some more, tossed around the pros and cons. Eventually he said, “Just do it”.
I bided my time for a couple of weeks. I wanted to be certain. But each day my mind stoked the fire with another log. I started a list of potential writing projects and publications I could write for. I imagined spending whole weeks at home instead of commuting an hour each way to my city job. I thought about all of the other things I could do when I wasn’t writing. Playing the piano, working on my family tree, spending more time with my parents ... the ideas spilled out like toys from an upended box. The warm fire became a hot blaze. I was certain.
People have been very supportive of my decision. Only a couple have been brave enough to broach the money question. “Will you be OK?” a colleague asked. Yes, I will. My house is rented out, and the income is enough to cover the mortgage and my living expenses. I have no children or other major commitments.
I live a comfortable but modest life. As I've cradled the writing dream for the past few years, I’ve simultaneously cast off many of the things that would previously have made this decision seem impossible. I owned my previous car for 20 years and the new one is small and economical. I don’t need expensive clothes; my partner and I are second-hand shopping freaks, and how many outfits does a working-from-home writer need? I’m happy spending evenings at home with Barnard, with the occasional meal out or visit to the theatre. I love travelling but don’t regard an annual overseas trip as a necessity, even if it were possible these days.
Which brings me to the real topic of this post: Enough. It’s a concept that seems to have been buried under a blanket of greed and ‘I need more’-ness in today’s society. Some people seem hellbent on gathering more and more assets, especially houses, while others are excluded from the market entirely. It distresses me and has done so for a long time.
I can honestly say I have enough everything I need to live a good and happy life. Better to leave some of the sugar for someone else.
The new chapter starts on Monday. I can’t wait to turn the first page.
Enjoy the new life