Number of FedEx shipments made today: 53 billion. Divided by 53. Or maybe a billion.

IT WAS A LOT OF FEDEX SHIPMENTS, OKAY?

My apologies for not posting the Friday foto on time. After rowing 12 miles (and leading team-building exercises after lunch) and then coming home to puppy poop on the carpet (we think he has an intestinal bug… the vet appointment later today should tell us more) I showered, ate, and then passed out around 7:30 pm and didn’t wake up until this morning. At which point I realized my ENTIRE body was sore, especially my neck, shoulders, back, and butt bones.

I also decided to archive all the previous mastheads, because I like them, and who knows, maybe someone else will too.

This month’s tagline (“let the poverty begin”) is in honor of my new part-time schedule, which starts in two weeks and means I’ll be earning 40% of my current salary (hence POVERTY) but writing a lot, lot more (read: MORE POVERTY). I’m really excited, but scared sh*tless at the same time.

On a related note, I’m sending my short story The Eraser out to a contest today. Wish me luck?

(No matter what you look like.)

I decided that the comfort of income wasn’t as important as the comfort of a joyful, happy spirit. I wanted to regain joy and the steady income wasn’t doing it so my answer was quite clear. Sacrifice the pay and pursue a career doing what I felt passionate about.

There are so many people who panic when faced with the thought of “not enough money,” myself included, but in reality, pursuing one’s dreams (and making the necessary sacrifices to do so) isn’t a luxury or a fantasy. It’s a mentality. Change your definition of “enough,” and you could change your whole world.

Also, I truly believe that even if we can’t all have our dream jobs, we can find work that we don’t hate or dread while we pursue our other passions. It’s a matter of working to live or living to work. For a lucky few, the two are the same. For the rest, the choice should be clear.

Today I was a very sad dog-momma indeed.

–

For the past couple of weeks I have been fairly vague about an “upcoming change” in my life, an “edge of the cliff,” so to speak. Well, as an angsty teen I thrived on that sort pf mystery and ambiguity, but now, as a mature sophisticated adult (HAHAHA) I’m all about the honesty and directness.

(Mostly.)

So here’s the dealio:

I’m transitioning out of my current job (account management) into a part-time administrative role (at the same company) in order to spend more time on my writing.

The end.

(Sort of.)

To back-track: I’ve spent the past month freaking out about this, namely because my original plan was to just quit. But then I got this email saying that our current admin would start working Mon-Wed only, and we were hiring a temp until we found someone to take Thurs-Fri. For some reason I didn’t think my bosses would ever go for me being the Thurs-Fri admin, so I didn’t bring it up with anyone for several days. But while I was meeting with our Controller about my 1-year review, I felt so comfortable with her (because she is THE biggest sweetheart on this planet) that it all just kind of came out: wanting more time to write, possibly quitting, and wondering if (but not believing that) I might be able to be the second admin.

To my surprise, she didn’t think it was a bad idea. She and I spent a few hours ironing out the possibilities and setting up a plan to present to my bosses. And as if being a sweetheart weren’t enough, she is also clearly a MAGICIAN, because they went for it!

I could have fallen down dead right then and there from the shock.

Not only did they go for it, they were extremely supportive. Their willingness to let me stay a part of the team while following my own dream really showed me how much our company has grown in the past year. We may not be perfect, but we have good intentions, and I’m starting to feel like we’re a family.

So I’m sort of going from the Competent & Dutiful Daughter to the Harmlessly Aloof Aunt, but I’m hoping it will work out well for the family company, and especially for me and my writing.

It means a lot to me to have this opportunity. I’m thankful to everyone who’s helping me make this possible — my parents, Andy, my (work) family, my friends.

Now it’s up to me to make this successful.

FIVE HUNDRED TWENTY SEVEN DOLLARS!

Five. Two. Seven. HUNDRED.

And that’s only if you weigh FIFTEEN pounds.

Yeah, needless to say, I asked the FedEx clerk if we could try another, cheaper service, because I think my boss would kill me if I brought back that receipt.

But then again, his adorable snuggly-ness compels me to hug and kiss and pet him a lot, which somewhat reduces my productivity. I guess you win some, you lose some.

Speaking of which… A few months ago, I sent one of my stories to Junot Diaz, the fiction editor at the Boston Review whose first novel The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao has been quite the success both with critics and the public. He responded personally, which is wonderful and rare, and one of his comments was that my story was “strong but young.” (See the win-some-lose-some connection there?)

I took this as a compliment, even though he wasn’t interested in publishing the piece. Recently I wondered, What would it take to get someone like him to read my work and think it was just strong, no buts? So, several months delayed, I emailed him to ask the question. Essentially, he said, you just have to write more, and he apologized for not being able to offer anything more precise.

Maybe I’m completely nuts and totally hearing what I want to hear — or maybe I’m just too used to Simon Cowell’s backhanded counsel on American Idol — but I think both his responses were encouraging. He didn’t say, “You stink, go find a real job.” (And if he had, I’d have to confess that I already have one, and maybe that’s part of why I stink.) No, he said, Keep at it. This is strong, but young. Like a sapling that will grow into an oak. Or an ocean breeze that will turn into a hurricane. Or a little elephant that will become a really big one.

So keep at it I will. And someday I will be that tree, that hurricane, that really big elephant. I can only hope that when I do, I’ll still have an adorable snuggly puppy sleeping in my lap.