11 Really Real Reasons I Can’t Quit My Job to Write Books

It’s no great secret: I love to write. Loveity love love it. Sometimes, when I work hard enough on something, it ends up quite good. In those moments, I often wonder “What if I could just do this all day?” Particularly when the day job is extra-sloggy (which, on the plus side, it isn’t always). I gaze over at my friends who are managing to negotiate the creative life full-time with awe and a kind of pasted-on “happy for youuuu” smile. But then I remember that I’m me, and really suck at not wasting every red cent I earn. This blog post appeared to me, fully formed, after I accidentally spent $64 on a tank top at Soul Cycle. I guess I should be grateful for the $64 tank tops of this world — which if I’m being honest doesn’t even fit perfectly – for bringing me back to reality now and then. Here are 11 really real reasons I can’t quit my job to write books:

#1 – Everything about Soul Cycle, really. It isn’t just that my latest obsession costs $28 per class. It’s that they have everything you could possibly need if you forget it – Forgot your water bottle? YOU get a Smart Water! Forgot socks? Got you, boo – plus really cute merch. All you have to do is give them your name and it’s yours (because your credit card is on file…). Was there a price tag on the tank top that I could’ve checked? We may never know, unless we were to look right now, which seems extreme.

Find your soul. Lose your $$

Find your soul. Lose your monay.

#2 – Artists need to experience art. Why shouldn’t I see every hot new play and musical that comes to D.C. and New York? Because I can’t afford it? Listen to how dumb that reason sounds.

#3 – I like to buy myself gifts on the anniversary of managing to stay at my job another year. The tradition started at my first job after grad school with a Typical-Washingtonian™ Longchamp bag and has been going strong ever since. But it’s possible my gift ideas are getting increasingly absurd. I am told that after 5 years one hasn’t actually earned a Burberry trench coat. Or… have they?

But Bones wears Burberry...

But Bones wears Burberry…

#4 – We live in a world where pets, in addition to people, have to pay rent. Having been unable to hold down steady work for years, my cat has long relied on me to pay her rent on her behalf.

This beautiful tropical fish doesn't really contribute financially.

This beautiful tropical fish doesn’t really contribute financially.

#5 – Venmo, even more than online banking or shopping, has really screwed with my concrete perception of money. It’s so easy to give and receive money on the app that it feels like I’m just playing pretend. $20 for pizza emoji here, $100 for money-flying-away emoji there. When paying someone becomes this amusing, you know you’re screwed. I imagine this is what it feels like to trade in Bitcoin, only less stupid.

#6 – I can’t stop buying books. One day perhaps I can save a little money by building a house in the woods out of all my unread books and alumni magazines.


I actually read this one! It shall form the rafters of my future book-home.

#7 – I am pretty lazy. It’s my greatest achievement. I’d outsource my entire life if I could – cooking, cleaning, waking up every morning – and you need a sizeable budget for that.

#8 – Producing my Fringe plays changed my life – and drained my bank account. I’m so grateful for my day job (and my first Kickstarter and perfect friends) for allowing me to blow a ton of money on those.


Oh Fringe.

#9 – Uber is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. And also the best.

#10 – I invest too much in classes to help me write to actually afford to take time off to write. I’ve never met a $300, 8-week creating writing course that I didn’t like.

Second City can have all my money.

Second City can have all my money.

#11 – If I did ever quit my job to write, I’d probably just waste a bunch of time rewatching House.

Thanks Mom.

Thanks Mom.

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