So I've lost my mind and quit my day job, in approximately that order. Actually, the losing of the mind in the form of a very nasty panic attack (something I've never before experienced) triggered the quitting of the job. I figure that a company can have my time, my devotion, and my loyalty. My sanity and health, however, are for writing and writing alone.
I'm within five pages of finishing the rough draft of a novelette I started two frigging years ago. This makes me happy. So does the prospect of getting a part-time job in a bookstore. So does the prospect of moving along with THotE, which is my Great and Monstrous Series of Fantasy and Intrigue. I'm freaking out a little over the loss of income, because I'll be lucky to get half of what I'm earning now. However, like I said, it's not worth my me.
I'm leaving a good company. If things settle down here and they're amenable to the idea, there's always a chance I'll be back at some point in future. (Sweet Elvis, please don't let it come to that.)
So, yes. This is me setting forth once more upon the path of Writer. As in, properly. Besides, after a while, 100-hour weeks get really, really old.