They said yes.
So, miraculously, unexpectedly, they accepted my proposal. Now this is weird. I wasn't actually expecting it to work ... sort of kidding.
You may be wondering what I proposed. I will first say that I had three potential plans, each with their own degree of risk and change involved. But all of the plans had the following two things in common:
- I would not have to do the office management tasks for the magazine anymore. No more entering subscription orders, no more purchase order requests, no more dealing with the stupidest software on the face of the planet.
- I would have more free time to do freelance writing, which is, ostensibly, my goal. To be a freelance writer.
Plan A worked. I don't have to implement the less desirable Plan B or the total career deviation Plan C. And here is Plan A, in all of its glory:
I will cut my hours in office by half, using all of my in-office time to focus on my assistant editor duties. I will not spend any of my time on office management because someone else will be hired to do it for the magazine. I will do only the part of the job that I like to do. The good half. I will use the other half of my "work week" time to write freelance for a variety of publications, some I'm guaranteed to get and others I can only hope for. I will maintain daily employment in my chosen industry and build my clips at the same time. I am brilliant.
I am also scared. What if I don't make enough money to make up for the other half of my salary? We just bought a house, for chrissakes. What if I'm lazy and procrastinate and bring more stress on myself through a job that requires lots of self-discipline? I'm trying to minimize stress!
My butterflies are multiplying too, because this is all going to happen very soon. Much sooner than was mapped out in my master plan. February 11. A little more than two weeks. I feel like a stagehand at Radio City Music Hall whose stage manager overhears her talking about wanting to be a Rockette and shoves her out onstage with the chorus line, right then and there, in front of a packed audience. I've got to figure out how to do this dance, and fast! And I don't even have on my tap shoes yet, and shit, I just remembered, I'm wearing my period panties under this skirt! High kicks, my ass!
It's so hard to make changes. Even little ones. This plan required the least amount of change for me, as it didn't mean I would be leaving the magazine. I wanted this--have wanted a change for a long time. It's so confusing then, when it's time to actually do it and you get nervous. I don't think I trust nervousness. In fact, there's only a select group of emotions that I'll really let have their way with me, and nervousness is not one of them. I think I'll be putting that one on the useless list, along with fear, envy and self-pity. My agenda is pretty packed--I'll not be having time for that crap.
Here I go. No time to waste, and that's one of my least favorite things about life. I really wish I could just sit back and bask in the victory of getting what I wanted. But the truth is that I asked for what I wanted, and I got the closest possible thing: the opportunity to make it so.
April
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Reader Comments (6)
Way to go! I'm getting wooed into making some career/life changes, too...reading you talk about it is encouraging.