It’s a month since I quit my job, my lovely safe comfortable job, and three days since I gave everything I own to charity, Freecycle or left out on the street for wombles (I love that my phone autocorrected that to Wimbledon!) of London to take away and enjoy.  I have a whole new plan, a terrifying and exciting plan which could come to fruition or could very possibly leave me with nothing more to my name but two suitcases and a cat crate.  More on that later.

My life has had some twists and turns in the last year, I certainly didn’t expect to be wearing my engagement ring as a novelty ring on my right hand, let’s put it that way!  But onwards and upwards, new challenges await.  Since the husband left I’ve been musing “what next” and in very me fashion – I was born to be a project manager – there have been multiple spreadsheets of options, pros and cons, weighted differences; happiness featuring highly on my scale, likelihood of success featuring higher on my father’s.  Certain options on my list he wrote off with a big fat NO, over a glass of wine (or soda on a fast day).  Until we settled on the idea we both thought would be the right one for me for now; I’d see if I could get myself a leasehold pub, invest five years of blood, sweat and tears, and see how it goes.

The pub business was always my plan back in the ancient days of graduating from University, until my father – basically bribed – persuaded me to give banking a go.  Three weeks was all he asked of me; it’s been eleven years.  I have to admit he was right at the time, banking has been great fun, I’ve made friends for life, I’ve become pretty geeky in my niche part of the banking world, but it’s time to break free of the 9-6pm and do something I can feel proud of.  Having something tangible I can look at and see that I have achieved is starting to feel really important to me, a lot of people want their family to be that, they work simply to put food on the table and pay the bills, but I want my job to be equally my reason for getting up in the mornings.  And I don’t think it’s unrealistic.

So, pubs.  First step was to purchase a car and some glasses, and it happened in that order, unfortunately, I went to look at a car and didn’t realise I’d be parting with 6k before I’d even driven it, but hey ho you’ve got to grab the good things when they come along!  And off I set to the West Country to look at pubs.  Once again though, “the plan” took a life of its own and the pub I fell for wasn’t a leasehold but a freehold.  Weighing up the pros and cons, spreadsheet based obviously, I reckoned I could make this work – assuming I could get the finance.  It would be a much bigger upfront investment, stamp duty is a bitch, but I wouldn’t be tied to a brewery, I could make it as me as I wanted (gluten free anyone?) and it really would be something I could be proud of.

Business loan fail.  It’s a lot harder to get finance for a business than a mortgage!  I’d naively assumed that 25% cash would be sufficient capital, business loan man disagreed.  So, more disheartened than I realised I would be (I’d fallen for the place even though I’d been telling myself to stay stoic until I knew it was really going to happen) I started bandying around various ideas, off list, not even ones I’d put in front of my father in the 18 months prior.  And then, bizarrely, there was one which just seemed to fit; moving to the Canaries to see if I could be a sailing instructor.  Why not?  My parents asked, and I literally couldn’t answer.  I felt a clearness in my stomach and my head replacing the uncertainty and sinking feeling which had been there for the last year and a half.  Why not?

So here I am, I’m taking the 25k I’d have given to the tax man on stamp duty if I’d bought the dream pub and investing it in myself instead.  If it all goes to plan it’s an investment in my future, if it’s a huge disaster then I’ll come back to the City and I’ll certainly have some stories to tell!  I’ve never taken more than ten days off since I was 14, I didn’t have a gap year, so I’m giving myself until next June to figure out if sailing is the life for me – the decision may well happen a lot sooner than that, I’ve never spent more than seven hours on a boat at a time, and I’ve signed up for four weeks in October.  I think that’s the point at which we’ll know if this is not going to work!  Until then I have to work out how to get myself, and my cat crate, to Tenerife.

Unfortunately, this does mean I’ve had to put my life size Kim Kardashian Vogue canvas print into storage.  Sorry, Kim.  I’ll send for you!