Something to think about.

"We are all beasts in this kingdom, we have all killed and been killed, and some new time has come to us in which we are called out to find another way to divide the world. Good and evil cannot be all there is." #BarbaraKingsolver, Small Wonder 

Sweet Lemon Magazine

Well, when it rains, it pours. And I mean that in the best possible way.

After what felt like a lifetime of searching for work I didn't hate, I feel like I'm suddenly surrounded with the opportunities I always reasoned were far beyond my grasp. Along with my current work with Holstee, with it's positive, communal atmosphere (we've been starting our weekly meetings by complimenting another member of the team = awesome!), I've recently been recruited as a weekly blogger for Sweet Lemon Magazine and their side project, The Zesty Digest.

Sweet Lemon is a bi-monthly online publication, but they know we girls may need advice a little more often than that. Cue a group of diverse (in both experience and personality!) ladies to dish out daily thoughts on a wide range of topics that concern most 20-something females, from recipes, to travel, to new trends and ideas, even career and financial advice. Whew, hope no one's looking to me for that just yet!

Self-described and geared toward "the Jane of all trades," Sweet Lemon stays relevant to the modern-day girl while remaining unabashedly quirky. They also aim to create constant opportunities for ladies to display their unique and creative talents by selecting a new batch of contributors for every issue: "We provide this generation's urbane women a chance to display their talents in writing, the arts, culture, business, networking, and so much more." In an ever-growing competitive business world, especially in reference to creative-driven careers, that's pretty darn sweet.

For my first post for the Zesty Digest, "Home Sweet ... Home?": go here.

The Black Manifesto Poster

Now presenting the newest addition to Holstee's online shop: The Black Manifesto poster!

This 12x16 print is made from 100% recycled cotton textile, the highest quality paper available for letterpress. Swoon.

"If you don't like your job, quit."

I am officially a free woman.

When I first came across the Holstee Manifesto, though its entirety proved very potently truthful, the line that struck me most in my current life was “If you don’t like your job, quit.” This simple statement was both oddly commanding, and extremely encouraging for me to continue forward in my journey for meaningful work.

For several years now, my mantra had been (sadly) closer to one of the following: "If you don't love what you do, you're screwed," or "Work doesn't matter: you do it, you get paid, you leave," or "Only lucky people really like their jobs."

I don't know the entire truth of it, but now, I know what it feels like to have hope. And quitting doesn't feel simple, I know. We all worry about money, about paying our bills or our rent, about being unemployed, about survival. If someone hates their job and you suggest walking away from it, they'll most likely scoff or brush your comment aside as childish or irresponsible. Who quits their job, people have said to me. In this economy, you take what you can get.

Maybe. And I don't want to seem ungrateful. Even though I wasn't happy working there, I am able to admit I was lucky, I made some wonderful friends, I had some irreplaceable experiences (and lessons therein), and I met the love of my life two winters ago, when he wandered in, adorably clad in red plaid, to buy a cup of coffee. Clearly, there are no accidents.

A chapter in my life that at one time felt eternal is now fully closed, is fully ended, is fully behind me. For all the time I spent wondering when I would ever make it to the end of that portion of the journey, I am now having a tough time remembering the specifics, most of it seeming like a breezy three-year blur disappearing behind me as I walked away for the very last time.

Even though, in my head, I heard the words from Aretha Franklin's "Think," (you know, the "FREEDOM, FREEDOM, FREEDOM" part?), driving out of the parking lot after my last shift, (vandalized) apron and hat already in the dumpster (and all other work clothes and shoes soon to follow), the radio appropriately (and nearly eerily) serenaded me with Florence + The Machine's "Shake It Out." It's always darkest before the dawn, she says. Goddamn, don't I know it.

Though it seems to me that dawn is finally here.