My Oldest Newfoundland

My oldest Newfie made herself at home on a slight hill in the backyard today, on a bed of dead grass straw, stuffing her face with prunes. The slight hill? I'm pretty sure it's made of years of fallen plums. Her buried 'bones' I guess.

My crotchety old Newfoundland lounging in a straw pile eating prunes.

I quit my day job.

While the decision was a long and sometimes agonizing one, now that I'm on my second week of no longer working on daily deadline as a copy editor at the newspaper, I can safely say that I am quite comfortable, happy, and relieved to have a burden and mornings full of stress lifted. My daughter watches less Sesame Street and we have better quality time together. I am able to develop my business in ways that I couldn't before, and I can meet Mr. Field Notes for coffee breaks.

That's not to say that I don't miss bits and pieces of it. The security of a known-quantity paycheck. Some social interaction. A mainline to news that never shows up in mainstream, online outlets. Yup. That's about it. I'll get used to the fluctuating income, find new social outlets, and find news when I want to.

Business has tapered, but that's the seasonal nature of it. I have a looooooong to-do list of various work and non-work projects I'd like to do, and if it keeps tapering I won't have to juggle 600 things at once. Sweet!

And the best, best part of no longer working at the newspaper is that I get to be politically active again if I'd like to. Very nice. I love politics!