So, I leave work on Thursday. World Goth Day, which seems appropriate. Corp goth outfit primed, though admittedly I can barely walk in my Banned pencil skirt which appears pleasing to Him Underfoot!

Legs aren't mine!

Legs aren’t mine!

As the day approaches I can feel the stress beginning to lift from my body. Yes, I’m still living an unhealthy life, yes I have no idea what I’m doing – all I can say is that this feels like the right decision at the right time. It’s the strangest thing, having my own future for once in my hands. After 21 years of employed work I can just step back, breathe and focus on doing what I want for at least 6 months. It feels unreal. It feels like dawn breaking through the night sky.

I’ve been looking at fragments of short stories that I’ve drafted and not yet developed, and it’s like there’s this yearning in them to break away. My lost souls are my own, fragmented, scared¬†– ghosts even. I want to give them voice, spend some time letting them go. Finding out where I’m supposed to go.

To my rational mind this sounds like wishy washy clap trap. To my exhausted body and soul it sounds like an approximation of heaven.

Thursday can’t come soon enough.