So this is it. No longer employed. I am exposed to the world and its madness. Time to leap into the cold water. It’s just me and the words. I push buttons on a keyboard, the buttons create symbols and the symbols create words and people read the words and for them, there is meaning. That is the best case scenario. I must find — and convey — meaning. No pressure there then.
The unwavering determination I now feel — the absolute focus on the goal — shames my previous attitude. It’s only surfaced in the last couple of months, undoubtedly a combination of being inspired by the MA I started in September and subsequent prospect of being unemployed upon leaving the company where I have been closeted away for 17 years.
An urgency has emerged, to learn the craft and read and write and write and read and write and think and learn and write. To scribble notes while giving the kids a bath. To read a couple of pages of Aristotle while waiting for the spaghetti to cook. Not just when I feel like it.
Virginia Woolf, among many other things, needed a room of her own. I will need money, so will be pleading for freelance work of any flavour, but for now, here we go. To the library. Onwards.