Saying Goodbye

I called it my zombie job because it had once been alive and cherished, but like the zombies of horror films, it was long dead and had become a source of distress.  Let me explain--I was a commissioned salesperson which means you have a chance of making lots of money or no money.  Now, I was never one of those lots of money types.  You'd have never seen me at the top of the sales list, but I always made a comfortable living.
Enter the 21st century with it's automation that allowed customers to purchase on their own.  The company I worked for no longer needed me.  And the money I depended on disappeared as if it were never there.  But it gets worse because I was still required to work 40 hour weeks, all in the hope of getting paid.  And I worked for another 18 months, but the paycheck never arrived.   I was like a gambler, always sad to lose, but thinking that the next one would be a killer.  Sadly, all I did was waste my time, running up credit cardss, raiding retirement, all to hold on to something that had died.
So, this month was my wakeup call.  I had to face the hard reality that nothing I did was going to change the fact that I was working for free.  I'd been hanging on for dear life, afraid that I was too old to find employment, afraid that I wouldn't know what I'd do with myself with no job.  No purpose.
But here's the thing.  My fear wasn't going to change a darn thing.  So.  Here I am.  My first day of freedom.  Bittersweet, yes.  But I'm feeling good about it. I think!