Over a seafood dinner, Bill asked me what I wanted to do next.
 "What is your dream job?"
  Well, a Victoria's Secret "angel," of course. But I don't think I'm tall enough.
  "Seriously," he said. "You are really good at Pinterest. You have almost 25,000 followers."
 Of course I would love to pin all day, and read comments on Facebook, and check out photos on Instagram, and keep up with what people are tweeting, and watch Periscope, and read blog posts ... Hmmmm, wait a minute. Do you think that's a job?
 Now that computers increasingly are becoming the vehicle for our information, our purchases and our connections, it IS a job to keep up with those platforms.
 And now it's MY job.
 

  Have you ever struggled up a steep path with a heavy backpack weighing you down, the wind battering you and a dark cloud over your head?
 I haven't either. But I think I had a similar experience every day for the past several years at my former workplace.
  And now I know how it must feel to reach a warm cabin, shrug that weight off my back and bask in front of a warm fire while listening to the rain outside.
  When I resigned from my newspaper job, I was struck by the immediate impact the decision had on my body and mind. Years of stress had taken a toll on me that I had tried, unsuccessfully, to address. The one thing I hadn't done was quit my job.
  All of a sudden, there were no deadlines imposed by other people, no demands to do extra work without extra pay, no pressure that I could be laid off.
  I sleep better, smile genuinely, move less stiffly. I eat fewer carbs but I have more energy. Even those pesky frown lines between my eyes are disappearing.
  And now I have a new outlook on work.  I realize that I don't need to struggle to get where I need to go.
  In fact, I can walk down a winding path, sharing the load, with the wind at my back and an umbrella in my hand.

   Well, I got to the edge of the cliff and I jumped.
    I abruptly turned in my resignation and waved goodbye to the familiar confines of the newsroom. I hadn't planned to leave my career. I adored being a journalist. I was good at it. But at that moment, on the edge of that cliff, I knew I had to jump.
    So I took a deep breath and plummeted, feet first, into the unknown.
   And you know what? It felt incredible.