today, after nearly three years of writing for a living, i am wondering why in the world i am writing for a living. i woke up at 2 am and the dread sunk in:
i have to go back to this place in the morning. and tomorrow. and the tomorrow after that.
a writing job has killed my desire to write.
a writing job has killed my creativity.
a writing job has killed any thoughts i had that i was, in fact, creative.
but then i wonder if it's just the place i'm in.
two years of chaos (which is oddly where i thrive)
two years of second-guessing (which thrives in me, but isn't healthy)
two years of frustration and no direction.
two months of micromanagement.
at least two full days worth of ulcers and tears and a racing heart.
i think mandatoryfun.com is like a bad relationship, but i can't really leave because i didn't get any other schooling.
some days it's tolerable and i forget that i want to leave. some days it's so unbearable i can't imagine staying another ten minutes (much less eight hours).
Jesus, show me what to do. and if it's becoming a forest ranger or spending minimum wage days making cookies and cakes, that's just fine by me.
rant over.
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1 comment:
I think you need to do what you want. Maybe if you quit you will want to write again creatively! But also, I'm bad at advice. Ha ha. So don't take any from me.
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