Little Black Book

Keep writing. Those two words bounced around in my head all day. Today was my last day at a job I absolutely hated. I endured five long years at a company that had passed over me twice for a promotion I clearly deserved. I was the last female left in my department and the lack of estrogen at work at taken its toll on me. As an adult, there are these irritating things called bills that you have to pay to provide shelter and warmth for yourself. You also have to eat…to stay alive. So, I as much as hated the grueling weeks at Growth Interface Designs (GID), I enjoyed eating and staying alive much more. Plus, I had written a few short stories that I felt had real potential to be published as books. I was tired of not fulfilling my creative desires and not chasing my true passion as a writer.

“Reese, we’re going to the bar down the street after work if you wanna come!” my co-worker interrupted my daydreaming. “I might catch up with you guys later,” I lied. I didn’t like seeing my co-workers at work, so why I would I voluntarily hang out with them during my free time? Plus, I had already typed up my letter of resignation letter to personally hand my supervisor as I exited the building to begin my weekend and unemployment. I already knew this company wouldn’t hang on to me for the two weeks I offered in my letter because of the compensation. I was fine with that because I had been saving for a while and was ready to fully immerse myself into my writing.

I had already taken my important stuff off my desk weeks ago. “Mr. Jorgenson, do you have a moment before I head out?” My scatter-brained boss looked up from his computer, “Sure, come on in.” I handed him my resignation letter with a smile on my face. He looked up at me with confusion, “Reese, is there anything I can do to keep you here?” That question was not one I had anticipated because that’s not how this scenario had played out in my mind. “No sir. I think this is the best decision for my future,” I extended my hand to end the conversation and to shake his hand one last time. We shook hands and I made my exit before the conversation was able to go any further.

As I walked to my car, I thought about my gutsy move to quit my job. I decided I would not dwell on the past, even if it was just ten minutes ago. Keep writing. I let the words echo again in my head as I drove to the grocery store. I picked up a bottle of wine and few items I wanted to cook for dinner before heading home to my apartment.

I was greeted by the smell of dinner cooking when I entered my apartment. “You forgot I was cooking tonight?” my boyfriend gave me a puzzled look. Honestly, my mind was on everything except dinner. I put the groceries up and placed the bottle of wine in the freezer. “Totally forgot, babe. Long day,” I said before planting a quick kiss on his lips.

Keith shrugged his shoulders as if my long day was insignificant. I smirked at him before exiting to take a shower. I was hoping this long, hot shower would provide some relaxation and a sense of relief. I was a bold person, but I was still not convinced I had what it took to be a great writer. I shook my head and released whatever other doubts were trying to creep into my mind. I finished my shower and got dressed. I could allow myself to start doubting my every move, but that wasn’t my personality. I always believed I had more to offer the world, and I was ready to prove it.

When I emerged from the bathroom, there was a black notebook with a yellow ribbon sitting next to a glass of wine on my desk. I went and sat at my desk before I opened the notebook. “That’s a Moleskine notebook; great for writers.” Keith startled me as he stood in the doorway of our bedroom. “That check for twenty thousand dollars is great for writers to follow their dreams also,” he continued. I was speechless; all I could do was stare at the check. He leaned down and kissed me on my forehead, “Keep writing, baby! I believe in you.” I looked up into his eyes, “I intend to.”