It’s been a week since starting the fundraiser. So far I’ve raised less than 1% of what I will need in order to quit my day job.
Only a week, I keep trying to tell myself. One week out of 17. One week out of a four-month fundraiser. There’s still a lot of time.
This morning, while walking to my day job, I aired my worries to Sir. Kit and I have put a lot into trying to make the business go. It could be an amazing thing. Sir wants me to make it go; I want to make it go; Kit wants to make it go. Fears and worries aside, everything else is pointing to this being the right thing to do. But we have to have a fallback in order to survive. We have to have a safety net, because we still have kids who depend on us.
Sir knows this. He’s willing to give me that before He gives the edict to turn in my resignation. And now that I have that promise, and now that the world keeps throwing hints in my direction that this is right, I want so very much to make it happen.
I’m trying very hard to be patient. I’m trying to do my work, and my Work, and my (day) job, and not simply run out of the office screaming and never come back. The closer to grasp the possibility of resigning comes, the harder it is to go to the office every morning and pretend that nothing is wrong (when so much very much is).
I have so much thanks for those who have helped, who continue to help, who have faith in me and what I can do. I’m just getting so very antsy – part of the lesson, I would surmise. Patience when the goal is right there. Patience when faced with the caution for which I asked, patience in the face of temptation to throw caution to the winds. I must remember: It’s only been a week. Just a week.