November was my favorite month of this year.

I rocked Thanksgiving dinner. Like, to the point all those “mmms” were worrying me that my culinary bar was being raised before my eyes. As if I was going to start doing this more than once every 26 years. HA! Joke’s on you, family. I’m not Brett Favring my career in the kitchen.

I’d decided that, no matter what was happening or not happening with a potential writing career, it was time to quit my day job. I’d been talking to my boss about transitioning to another position, and after several months, it was clearly time for a change. The day I was scheduled to meet with my boss–when I was going to tell her my official last day would be in three weeks–I got an email about a writing contract. Meaning a writing contract was prepared, signed by the-guy-in-the-biggest-office-with-the-best-view, and had my name printed on it. It’s a strange feeling when things work out that perfectly. Elation sprinkled with skepticism.

So, my last day in my current position at job #1 is 11 days from now. My writing contract is dated December 1. I feel too blessed and wildly grateful. For all the difficult moments of the past year, it’s hard to think of doing it differently. Even if I still don’t recognize this place, I am standing on the edge of my dream career. I cannot wait to close my eyes and jump.

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