So, it’s been a crazy few weeks. I finished my third draft. I quit my miserable, soul-sucking job and started a new one at a pasty shop (that’s not a typo, it’s actually pasty. Look it up). And I graduated from my Master’s program with a 3.9 GPA.
Boo yah, bitches.
As such, my life has been in an incredible state of upheaval for the past three weeks or so. It’s made me think about what I’ve done and what I need to do. It’s made me think about what I want my future to look like juxtaposed to the future I’ve had planned for the last two years. It’s made me realize that all I want is to be happy on my terms.
If only I could figure out what those terms are. It’s all well and good to say “I want to be happy” when you have no idea what would make you happy. I’m lucky enough that I have an idea (a rough estimate, more like) but it requires taking that first, terrifying step forward that may lead to rejection, desolation, and ugly sobbing to Dashboard Confessional. I could end in failure and that’s the worst fear of all.
But, to me, stagnation is an even worse fate than failure. So I hang another piece of paper on my wall, take up a second part-time job for which I’m massively overqualified, and stand at the edge of that cliff.
I close my eyes and step forward.