Four months ago, I quit my day job. I had been working full-time at a sign shop, doing graphic design. I spent nearly five years there before I finally threw in the towel.
I had plenty of reasons for leaving. As you might expect, most of them centered around not wanting to be there anymore. But the strongest pull away from that job was a pull toward something. I wanted to try something new. I wanted to make something new. I wanted to stop tailoring my creativity to the desires of my customers, coworkers, and bosses. I wanted only my voice in my head as I worked.
Even at the time, it felt like a pipe dream. It felt silly to walk away from the security of a paying job and plunge into the unknown with no guarantees. Irresponsible, even.
My goal was to make money writing. Four months into this, I don’t feel any closer to that goal. Maybe I haven’t been working hard enough. Maybe I haven’t been working smart enough. Maybe I’ve been too distracted by other tasks, like household chores, and Kijiji sales, and planning our move. Maybe I’ve been inviting these very distractions so I’ll have something to point to when I fail.
I feel like I’ve failed already. Continue reading “Small World”
When Kate and I first got together, we both had full-time jobs. Neither of us were terribly satisfied with the career paths we were on. Our home time was split between doing household chores and recharging our social batteries. Weekends were just long enough to make us feel like people again, and then Monday would roll around. Our jobs were leeching more than the requisite eight hours per day from us. We both craved a proper work/life balance.
Now and again, we would toy with the idea of one of us taking time off work to focus on writing. It was fun to think about, but it didn’t really seem feasible as an actual option.
We got married last year, in a much smaller ceremony than we had originally planned. Most of our “wedding fund” wasn’t needed for the wedding, but we still wanted to use it for something that was important to us. Investing in one of our dreams seemed like the right choice.
I quit my job back in April. So far, it’s been weird, but good. From the start, it was important to me to make the most of the opportunity. I’ve structured my lifestyle accordingly. Continue reading “Real Housewife of Edmonton”
This week, I was scrolling through Facebook when I saw that a friend is having a book published.
“Congratulations!” I messaged her. “You’ve worked so hard. I can’t wait to read it!”
And I meant those words. I’m proud of her. She’s brilliant, and she deserves all the success she’s had. She worked hard to get a tenured position in a field that’s openly hostile to women. She built her success increments at a time, and she’s finally being rewarded with the spoils of all that hard work.
But my celebration of her success was tinged with a sense of shame in myself.
There was a time when I’d planned to publish too. There was a time when I’d chased a tenure track career and the respect of a difficult field. There was a time when I’d hoped to travel the world and give talks and organize lectures.
There was a time when I thought I could control the way my life turned out. Continue reading “Journey Over Whiskey Bay”
Welcome to Butch Please!
My name is Mo, and I’m a thirty-something lesbian living in Edmonton, Alberta. I share a small apartment with my wife, Kate. She’s a late-twenties bisexual chick.
Kate and I each had our reasons for wanting to create a site like this. We’ve both enjoyed websites of a similar style, but lately we’ve noticed a decline in quality. Content has veered towards click-bait topics (misleading titles, intentional controversy) and click-heavy formats (list articles that make you click on a new page for each item). Many websites have become almost impossible to slog through due to the overwhelming number of ads. Continue reading “Hello!”