Gone...Back...Gone again...I'll be back

I have been away from my blog for a while now. I am back, but only for one post to say that I won’t be back again until my book is done, however long that takes.

My book, my writing, my need to express myself, they have all been the casualties of the work stress I have been under and the home environment I can’t seem to get over. And, as you may have noticed in the posts leading up to my silence, I’d become consumed, so much so that I didn’t have anything nice to say anymore. That’s not the person or the writer I’ve ever wanted to be.

Has the toxic environment at work taken a turn? Gawd no. It’s gotten worse. Has the sun decided to make a special appearance in my living room? Sadly, no, again. There are some things that have changed, though. For one, Spring is here. The daylight is lasting longer, and that helps.

The other thing that has happened is that I had a game changing day in my life last Saturday. I went to a psychic and I got the answers to the questions I have been asking: How the hell is it that I have found myself in the worst job I have ever had? How did I choose to move to the darkest place I’ve ever lived? What have I done to myself?

What I’ve done is that I, unknowingly, created the worst possible conditions for myself so that I could come to the conclusion I have needed to come to for a long time. I am not a 9-5-er. I don’t want this life. This is not who I am, who I was meant to be, and this kind of life is not what I have always wanted for myself. The psychic didn’t spell that part out. I figured that out on my own. He did tell me that I have never given myself a chance to live the life I have wanted to live.

That’s when I had to ask myself why that is. Perhaps I have been afraid that my dreams, of making it as writer, were only to remain dreams. I am still afraid I may not be able to make money doing thing things I am most passionate about, communicating through words or color. I am, however, more terrified of living the way I have been living for the rest of my life. The psychic did tell me I had a choice to make in life and getting a new job would be choosing this kind of life, a life of 9-5. (I didn’t tell him I’d been searching for a new job.)

I can’t do 20 more years of this shit, sitting in a gray box, a cube, without windows, having my retinas burned out by florescent light, listening to a frog man clip his nails in the cube next to me, being woken up an hour and a half before my alarm every morning because the dainty bitch above walks like a friggen hippopotamus, and waking up to show up to a hell I never wanted to get a fire suit for.

I don’t want to live in a place that someone else owns. I don’t want to share walls with people who aren’t my family. I don’t want to be put in the position where my rent can change. I don’t want to be the person who creates an enemy out of someone who gave me a place to live, even if they pulled a last minute lease switch on me and broke my trust.

I don’t want to wear collared shirts and poly-blend pants so I can look appropriate for people who could care less about me. I don’t want to worry that if I get a tattoo I might be looked at as less than professional. I am less than professional, damn it! I am a friggen creative. I should have blue hair, or at least a fuchsia pink streak.

You know what else? I am sick of comfortable work shoes. I only want to own two types of shoes in my life. I want the totally uncomfortable kind that make you look hot, but you can only manage the distance to and from the car to the table you will be dining at. And, I want the best comfortable kind. Shoes that say to others you are going to the beach or going for a run.

I don’t want to put make up on every day, either. I don’t want my days to be governed by toxic bosses. I don’t want to sit through another meeting where people are talking about shit that doesn’t matter to me, at all. I don’t want the new things in life I learn to be “how to play their game” or “how to get through the day.”

So, I am giving my dreams a chance. I am going to finish my book and put it out there and shop it to as many publishers as it takes until the right one puts it in print. I am going to see if the life I want for myself can be actualized. If I don’t give my dreams an honest effort, a place to go where my passion has wings, whose fault is it?

Ta Ta for now…