Where the fuck is my office?

My boss came to me and handed me a box of Kleenex. This is a great decision he said… you will remember this day as the best day of your professional life…

Really?

Running credits begin.

Only my name appears.

I am Slap.

And I just recently changed my life.

It sounds big, but it’s actually true.

I was an employee for the last 20 years and now I want to be self-employed.

So, more than big, this change happens to be huge.

And I have no clue where to begin.

One of my first moves was to join GRIND.

My buddy, who is also an Adwoman, helped me find this place.

I kept telling her, where the fuck am I going to go in the mornings?

Starbucks? Please no.

So this was quite a good idea.

Because,

After one week of crying over leaving my very comfortable job and position of Reina at a Multicultural Ad Agency, it hit me.

I don’t miss the job.

I certainly don’t miss the clients.

I miss the people obviously.

But mostly,

I miss that space that belonged to me.

I could bear the morning craziness, the running, the dealings with myself, my stress and my two loving and annoying kids only because I knew that in no time, I would be having a good cup of coffee sitting in that one space.

An oasis. That was my office.

So now I am facing a couple of new situations,

First of which, where the hell is the IT guy that will make sure my equipment is running while I have lunch?

And why is it so complicated to print?

Why is my computer not opening adobe files? What do you mean you can’t support that system stupid MacBook?

What the fuck is happening with my world?

It’s all tumbling down.

Of course it is because I was the spoiled brat, also known as the Executive Creative Director, with a great team of talented people that would make me smile and also lose my mind.

And now here I am at a space where I know no one, I still talk to no one, with a computer I no longer have good communication with, unable to print for the life of me, surrounded by lists of things to do in yellow post-its and ideas that need to take shape and I happen to have only myself to sort it all out.

Not only that but I carry three heavy bags each morning in order to do all that has to be done – without going back home - and already my life seems to be far more exhausting than before, when I was making money every two weeks.

The weird thing is,

I am happy.

Very.

With all of the possibilities,

Which of course, for now are unknown.

So I am a bit thankful to the people that created this concept.

I like being a free range human.

There seem to be a lot of free rangers around me and they all look busy so I might be on the right path.

Life could surprise me.