This is What We Call Risky

This is What We Call Riskyfeatured

My name is Allison and I just quit my job.

::does a happy dance::

::happy dance turns into a freakout::

::curls up in a ball on the couch wishing a bottle of wine would open itself::

In a nutshell.

This wasn’t exactly what I wanted my first post here to be about. I had this “plan,” kinda-sorta, where I would start writing here on the side, hustling and freelancing in my free time, build up a decent-enough freelancing gig so I could quit closer to the end of 2014 with a bunch more money in the bank and the confidence that my income would drop for a bit, but the hit wouldn’t be too massive. And then I’d skip off into the sunset with my freelancing and finally find the time and motivation to write a novel or two and live happily ever after.

Then I realized, well, that clearly wasn’t going to happen because my job was draining the life out of me, requiring crazy overtime, and not leaving me any time or energy to take the tiniest step down that side-hustle road. So after a long talk with my husband about our finances and my goals, and a lot of stress and angst, I decided to take what is, literally, the BIGGEST risk of my entire life. Seriously.

The Biggest Risk of my Life {the ponytail diaries}

Riskier than getting in a cab with two German guys and a couple Aussie girls I’d known for all of 6 hours in Munich (it was cool mom, don’t worry, the girls and I got out of the cab quick and ran off to our respective hostels. Lesson: when they won’t serve you anything smaller than a liter of beer, either say “Nein” or order a buttload of pretzels and sausages).

Riskier than playing rugby or occasionally jaywalking when I’m out for a run.

Riskier than bungee jumping in Australia or going on a week’s vacation in Cozumel with a guy I’d been dating for less than a month.

Wow, I didn’t realize how much stupid things I’ve done.

The point is, even though WAY more thought has gone into this than any of those other things, it’s still such a phenomenally huge leap of faith that, up to the moment I told my boss I’m resigning, I didn’t know I had in me.

So now I’ve got two weeks left of work, and then, I’m leaping out into the great wide open (cue Tom Petty).