You know how you sometimes stay in a thing too long? So long your fingers get pruny? You know you should get out but the known feels good and comfortable and soothing.
Until it doesn’t.
And you stretch your wrinkled fingers towards the edge, anticipating what a force of effort it will be to hoist yourself out, but also knowing if you can just get past that initial shock and strain, it will be better.
And that is where I am. About waist high on the ledge, legs still dangling in the water. Ready to pull myself from what I have known for the last eight years to a completely new path. One of facts and figures and hard rules and nothing creative.
And I couldn’t be happier.
(For those who like concrete description: I am returning to college to pursue a degree in Accounting. Just about as far out from photography as one might imagine. But I was a Naval Supply Officer in another lifetime and all those columns of numbers delight my heart.)