Tomorrow is my last day at my office job. I’m pretty freaking excited, even as I bid a wistful farewell to my regular paycheck.
I am constantly reminded of the terrible odds of succeeding at the new profession I’ve chosen. There’s the singer who works as a cashier at Whole Foods, the conductor who works as an executive assistant at my husband’s office, and the countless other musicians-turned-accountants, yoga instructors, bartenders…
Today I rehearsed with a conductor who is trying to persuade her college-age daughter not to follow in her footsteps. She gave me the Asian Mother’s Look of Disappointment and Disapproval as I explained my recent decision. Despite building up an immunity to the Look over 18 years, I felt a twinge of doubt and defiance as I left the rehearsal.
Maybe I’ll hate being a full-time musician. Maybe I won’t make enough money to get by. Maybe in a year or two, I’ll have to write a “Hello again, cubicle” blog post. I made this decision because I didn’t want to die regretting that I never gave music a fair chance.
Goodbye, cubicle! I hope to never see you again, so I’m going to practice now.