Things I miss:

It’s been six weeks and I cannot think of anything I miss besides a handful of people. I don’t miss leading meetings, collaborating on projects, being in charge of things, working on spreadsheets, although I did rather enjoy those things when I was working at the corporate job.

I especially don’t miss the things I never enjoyed like political maneuvering, managing certain metrics, implementing more and more processes. As for the people, I suspect I faded out of their consciousness as quickly as most of them faded from mine.

Things I worried about:

Not keeping to a writing schedule. Turns out I’m doing okay, although not as well as I’d hoped. I’m writing here sometimes, but I don’t count that. I am writing fiction pages most days.

Not submitting work (or not having work to submit). Submitted to 14 places and have received 1 rejection so far. Long shot, top tier places, but why not? You can’t win the lottery if you never buy a ticket. You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take (Wayne Gretzsky). Insert additional clichés here.

Being distracted by miscellany. Okay, sometimes that happens. I play word games on my phone, browse Amazon, do laundry, and this week I did our taxes (we file late because of Joe’s business extension). I do shop for groceries more frequently and I do it during the day rather than evenings or weekends.

Being imposed upon by family or friends because I’m home and “not working.” That happens some — my mother asking me take care of her dog or friends wanted to meet for lunch or walks. Nothing I can’t handle so far. My husband and daughter generally avoid calling me for lunch, and Joe often takes his own lunch now.

Sleeping late. Nope. I am up and I’ve prepared a breakfast to go (egg sandwich, sliced apple, chocolate milk) for Ben by 8:20. He’s 16, but hey, I haven’t made him school day breakfast since he was 8.

Drinking too much. I don’t drink during the day and I don’t drink alone (well, if I meet my one particular friend for lunch, sometimes we have one drink ). I am drinking less at night, but that’s not saying much given how much I was drinking.

Not having a story to tell. I do have a story. It’s raw, and I am not sure how much of it I can tell without breaking my main characters’ heart. Or my own.

Being alone all day for four days a week and the loneliness that could ensue. I flipping love this aspect. I love Monday when they all leave, I love Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. I don’t mind Friday when Joe works from home, and I enjoy the weekends. I am fortunate enough to have friends, family, and neighbors who fill any social wells I have.

Money. Sometimes I worry about this, but not as much as I thought. Working 19 years at a corporation and contributing to stock, 401K, principal on this house, etc. reassure me of my back up plans. But I haven’t bought new shoes, handbags, or dresses for myself since I left. And we don’t go out to eat as much.