Finding the words to start over. Again.

My story isn’t about a woman who lost her job in a year when a pandemic ravaged the world and stole hundreds of thousands of lives. My situation isn’t unique compared to the millions of Americans who also found themselves out of work and struggling to keep the bills paid and food on the table. My friends and family members are all OK. My son is happy and healthy and has a roof over his head. I’m one of the lucky few who will leave 2020 behind mostly unscathed, and the guilt I feel about that could fill volumes.

I‘m not here to complain about my circumstances or claim to have some deeper understanding of the toll this year has taken on so many of us, regardless of our personal and professional circumstances.

I’m here because after a lifetime of writing and editing (and a solid decade of getting paid to do it), I feel I’ve lost the ability to sit down and put words together in a way that makes sense to me or anyone else. I’m here because I’ve started writing this at least 100 times since March and never got past the first paragraph because I couldn’t stand to look at my own mediocrity. But mostly I’m here because my friend Jason Kirk published something today that gave me courage for the first time in a long time. And I just think when you read something that lights a fire in you, you owe it to the writer to let it burn long enough to see where it leads.

Since childhood, working has always been an essential part of my identity. No matter how nerdy or unattractive or friendless I was, I could always work my ass off on anything put in front of me and out-work just about anyone in the room. So when most of my SB Nation colleagues and I were laid off earlier this year, save for those who (smartly) took buyouts, my brain rushed to find solutions for fulfilling my creative yearnings while making enough money to survive. After all, I had built an entire career on my versatility. Need a hard news reporter who can crank out a story on deadline with time to spare? HI. A magazine editor who can juggle freelancers, layout and advertising? I’M YOUR GIRL. Weekly columns condemning racist symbolism in the South? HAPPILY. For 10 years, I adapted to whatever I needed to be in this industry to get the job and earn the next one, a pattern which eventually led me to sports, and I loved what I did because it felt important to…