When my journalistic career ended in mid-November, I could have been sad.
I loved working in a newsroom, which is probably like no other professional environment. The people are brilliant, cynical, witty and dedicated, with a marked tendency toward wickedly funny (and usually irreverent) black humor.
In a newsroom, we (yes, it’s still a “we” thing) read and interview and uncover facts for a living. We are paid to learn. Adrenaline amps the heart rate when news strikes (or deadline approaches).
While I miss the newsroom and its people, I am not sad at the beginning of this second phase of life.
I am elated, optimistic and energized. The future, to quote Tom Petty, is wide open.
I suddenly have the chance to do things I’ve always wanted to do.
It’s rather shocking the gaps I have in my life. I worked across the street from the Ohio Statehouse for 26 years, but I never took a tour of the building. Too busy.
I have never shot a gun. I have never made deviled eggs. I have never jumped from an airplane. (OK, that last one isn’t so unusual, but you get my point.)
Post-job, I am reclaiming my life, filling my days with the myriad activities I’ve always wanted to pursue.
That includes the mundane. I’d like to get more exercise, eat right and keep my house in order.
In this space, I plan to chronicle my journey to my new life, recounting my experiences, my discoveries and my travels.
Welcome to the Cindy Files.