I had a light bulb moment this morning. I woke shortly after 5am and as I lay there thinking about the working day that lay ahead of me, I suddenly realised "I don't have to do this any more".
I've given 30 years of my life to being a professional wordsmith - from the punk fanzine I was first published in (back in 1978) and the listings mag where I trained at from the age of 16 to my current freelance life of combining writing and editing, via all the staff jobs in between. And I just don't want to do it any longer. I've lost interest.
I still have at least 20 years' working life ahead of me and it's time to pursue new passions. I've always been fascinated by engines. Even though I can no longer drive, I used to love getting my hands dirty under the bonnet of my old Mini. I've decided to retrain as a motor mechanic. The local college is offering courses, so I'm going to sign up. And as soon as I've qualified, it'll be bye bye hacking and hello camshafts!
Am I mad? Possibly. But life's too short and if I don't pursue my dream now, I never will.