Why I Quit My Job to Write A Novel

I'm awake again. My mind is whirling. I'm thinking about VERY IMPORTANT THINGS! My boss said nothing about that project I handed in. She probably hates it. She probably hates me. I'm pretty sure the people who report to me think I'm stupid. My office is too cold. Why can't those jerks ever get the heat right?

Mostly I'm thinking about that guy in accounting....

I told him I needed those numbers for my meeting this morning but as usual, he didn't have them ready. In fact, when I hunted him down at his cubicle he wasn't there. Ten o'clock in the morning and he hadn't shown up yet! He had managed to rearrange all the icons on his computer desktop to spell THIS!

I had no choice. I had to go to the meeting and tell my boss that the bum in accounting didn’t get the numbers to me. She pulls out her hair and tells me it’s my fault, that I should keep my staff in line. I remind her that our company policy clearly states we can’t fire anyone unless they are a murderer (preferably a convicted serial killer)

Cry me a river, she says.

I trudge back to my corner office…

…And I wonder how it came to this. I’m 53 years old. I have 100% medical, 80% dental, 6 weeks of vacation and a pension plan. I only have to coast through the next 12 years to reap the benefits of FREEDOM 65!

AND I FINALLY SAW THE LIGHT....IT WAS TIME TO GET RADICAL...