Today, I'm reminding myself how lucky I am to have this time in my life to focus on the things that are most important to me, my family and my writing. No matter how frustrating the writing process is, I could still be back at my 9 to 5 writing newsletters for clients and wishing I was working on a short story instead. It's hard to explain to people that writing is my "job" now because I'm not making any money. With some people, it's easier to call it my "hobby" and say my "job" is a stay-at-home mom, though, hey, I'm not getting any money for that either!
I'm listening to these women talk about how much they hate their work, and I'm thinking about how I desperately hope I'm still writing at age 95, how there isn't enough time in the world to get all the stories down on paper that I want to tell, how my worst day writing is still better than a good day in the cubicle jungle, how the only "boss" I have to deal with is the one in the mirror. It was fun to bitch about work with my old office pals, but I'd much rather be where I am now, just one lucky bitch.