I find myself in the position of having to quit my job.
Most people are saying, "Hooray! You won a fellowship! You can dedicate your time entirely to your art. You are so lucky!"
And they are right.
And I am so scared that I am leaving my job that I really don't like - don't get me wrong. I love the students I support, but the faculty I work with, except for the philosophers, are all kind of classist dicks. There I said it. I hate my job because a large portion of the people I work with would rather I make copies and type memos and keep the coffee warm than do what I actually do. That's okay. It gives me something to fight, to push back against and say, "NO! My life is really about this other thing."
So now I get to actually do that other thing. And what's that like? Fearful. Scary. Amazing. So, so sad. It is the last nail in the coffin of the life that I built with Earl. All that is left is the person that I've become.
So friends, I'm gonna' try my best not to screw this up. I'm gonna' get up every day and do my art and be my self. And I'm gonna' get paid to do it.
In a sense and in defiance of the old adage, this quitter has won.