Half of a year

Today is my sixth month anniversary. I don't mean to sound like a broken record, but holy hell, six months have passed since I walked out of that window office, and what a journey it has been.

Today my third article was published in the newspaper, and I spent seven hours surrounded by beautiful flowers working my butt off.

Tonight I sit here and think about the last six months and can't even begin to list the emotions I have felt, the tasks I have accomplished, the changing I have done. I am a different person than I was six months ago, but I am the same person I was many years ago. I am someone who smiles at opportunities and calls her Mom to ask "what page am I on today?" I am someone who does not dread Mondays. I am someone who sleeps soundly, and who feels true, earned exhaustion. I am someone who feels blessed that her risks are starting to pay off, and I am proud to say I took a chance on me and it was worth every tear, stomach ache, and second of panic.

I now know the answer to the question "What if I hadn't quit my job?" It's simple really. I wouldn't be as happy as I am right now, and that is all the answer I need.