Endings

For the last year and a half, I have worked with a wonderful group of people as a Realtor.  I love the company.  I love showing houses.  Unfortunately, I am not as good at selling them as I am showing them, so I have made very little money at this endeavor.  After much discussion, with another fee quickly coming due, I decided it was time for me to quit.

Tonight I signed the papers to make it official.  Rather than the flood of relief I expected, I feel deeply sad.  This company is one of the best I have ever worked at, filled with people who help each other and who truly enjoy what they do.  That's a hard thing to find in a workplace, and apparently especially rare in Real Estate.

Now I am onto other things.  My husband worries that we will not have enough money for me not to work in a paying job, but I haven't been paid in months.  It is time for me to focus on the creative things I love to do, and hope to make a career of them.  That's a luxury I have waited a long time for, but jumping in terrifies me.  This isn't a job with a clear-cut description.  I have to figure out myself how much time to spend writing, photographing, attempting to paint, and trying to get my work seen.  It's going to be tough to balance it all.

I wish I could say my husband was completely on board with this.  He isn't.  On the one hand, he says very supportive things about my talent, and agrees that this is a logical step, but on the other hand, he tells me of the financial ruin that is about to befall us. There is a fear nagging him that he will find himself in poverty, and I don't know how to calm those fears.  I have registered with a temp agency, that I hope will find me a little work here and there while I'm working on my not-yet-paying projects.  Maybe that will help him feel more secure.  It could also pay for printing and framing my photos.

Of course, my biggest hope is that my work will begin to pay off quickly and I won't have time for temp agencies and financial worries anymore.