A momentary flinch

I saw a friend last night that I haven’t seen in ages, and he asked me how I was liking my job.

Oh.
There was a momentary flinch on my part, but then I recovered and said I’m still really liking it.
He saw the flinch.
I admitted that while I did like it, for the most part, the lack of creativity was really starting to get to me. 
He understood, because like me, he used to have a super-creative job where he was known for his writing — much more known than me. Now he has a more management-y job, too, and we both miss what we had before.
I’ve been asked about my job a lot over the last year, and I’ve always been cheerful and told people how much I like it … and I do. 
But last night was the first time I couldn’t hide my doubts.
I’m more determined than ever to publish my first novel and return to writing permanently. I want to fill my days with words and turns of phrase, not calculators and budgets. I don’t want to keep feeling like a wolf writer in sheep’s manager’s clothing.
And how will I honestly be able to tell my children to follow their dreams, if I didn’t do the same?

So what do you think?

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