I'm leaving the paper on June 17, maybe to return in 13 months, maybe never to return. It's great when the future is open ended, like the only straight draws we should betting on.
I talked with the editors on Tuesday and we came to an agreement on the leave of absence, which is non guaranteed. They will not hold an opening specifically for me, though positions become free all the time in this high turnover business, and I am not contractually obligated to come back. (But after a year I'll probably be broke and begging for a job.)
A note was sent out to fellow employees explaining that I would be taking an extended leave to write a book, though it didn't specify what kind. Those who've asked have given me plenty of encouragement, though not of the sort Tom (that's Iggy, fellow bloggers) told me about when he quit work, with the high fives and all.
"Do it while you're young," my co-workers say. They're right, of course. I'm 28, free of all loans except for a house payment, have no wife and kids. The time is now, or it is never.
So after I leave on the 17th, celebrate Father's Day with my dear old 60-year-old dad, it's off to Vegas for the last three weeks of the World Series of Poker. My adventure begins in 81 days.