I woke up this morning
with a headache and a resolve. I’m going to do this. I’m going to stop being a talker and start being a doer. I’m moving to NYC.
For the record, it’s making my stomach dance around like an idiot over hot coals and I’m sweating a little. I’m not exactly certain how I’m going to pull it off. I always told myself I wouldn’t move out there unless I had a job. Yet, here I am, about to take the plunge and do it anyway. Jobless and with fuck-all for savings.
Maybe this is why I woke up with a headache.
I need to live my life for ME. I’ve lived with a small regret over the last year for not taking the plunge last spring/summer. But I think I needed it—that job, those people. Not only for the confidence they’ve restored in myself and my abilities but for the friendships and all the intangible things that are important and almost impossible to describe.
So what are we going to do today, Brain? Plot to take over the world, of course.
Well, ok, I’m going to work on some freelance first but then …
