So... I resign my job in the international shipping industry (an industry I've been working in since 1996 and know backwards, forwards, inside and out) to work as a fulltime copyeditor / copywriter for a safari tourism company here in Cape Town.

Except that I end up doing more web uploads and sorting out other krappy web-related issues, and barely any writing or proofing. Lovely stuff.

The drive to work is far longer and along a more dangerous road traffic-wise, the hours of work are longer... My migraines begin to grow worse (think black spots jumping around every time you open your eyes, little green men suddenly on steriods hammering away at the inside of your skull while their female counterparts stick hot needles through the back of your eyeballs).

Then the inevitable: My depression kicks in again. Downward spirals of numbness and nothingness.

I once again contemplate my life.

And my dreams.

And finally the thought springs into my head: "Screw it. Why don't I just do it?"

Do what?

Follow my dreams, of course. And not in the "safe way" that I've been doing the past two years.

In a very real way.

So last Monday I resigned my job. I'll be working fulltime from home doing freelance SEO writing, editorials for the local newspaper, copywriting, copyediting... Starting up a long-pending web design business together with a friend... Finally getting some of my own writing done... Marketing my husband's business... Basically, any work I can get my grubby paws on...

Scary shit. No set income each month. No spare cash to fall back on. No nothing. Just hard work. Blood. Sweat. Tears, no doubt (but surely no more than those that have already been shed).

I've taken the plunge.

Sink or swim.

Wish me luck.