I finished work at my salaried job a bit over a week ago. From here in I’ll be counting on the income from one day a week of self-employment in Auckland, and a similar gig — though at a fledgling stage — in Whangarei. There are a couple of part-time contracts on the horizon, as yet unconfirmed.
We haven’t quite got the Auckland house on the market yet either. Don’t get me started on why; it’s a long and irritating story involving a deck rail and a council building inspector. Upshot being there’s still that mortgage to service for a a few months.
Maybe it would have been more sensible to wait for financial certainty before ditching the government job. Over the years though I’ve learned that the process of radically changing your life is like working a flying trapeze; in order to reach the place you want to be, you must first let go of the safety you’ve been holding onto.
Right now I’m suspended in the space between swings, but it’s ok, I’ve been here before and I know I just have to s-t-r-e-t-c-h.