Not The Life I Expected
Imagine what you want your life to be. Or what you thought you wanted it to be. Where do you want to be? Who do you want to be with? What do you want to do everyday when you wake up?
A little over a year ago I left a job that paid alright, had great benefits, and didn’t have terrible hours. But I wasn’t very happy. I had no room to be creative or for that matter to be myself. I felt constricted and I made the decision to quit the job and head to Europe for a little while. Nothing crazy, just a month, but I had the impulse to get away. To do my writing. To enjoy a bit more of the world. To be myself. Not Andrew that couldn’t write what I wanted on my blog in fear of losing employment. Not someone who had to clap for people I could have cared less about at large conferences. Not a guy who had to listen to boss’s that were all about the company line.
So for the last year I worked on my writing. I self-published my book. I am working at a running store. I still live in NYC – though no longer in my large studio on the Upper East Side. I have far less money (which does cause a whole lot of stress). But on the whole I think I am happier. Though THIS IS NOT WHAT I SAW FOR MY LIFE.
This wasn’t supposed to be me. I was going to be in business and make a killing. I wasn’t going to be some starving artist writer selling running shoes. There are days when I am tempted to go back to the corporate world (ie, making money again), but is it worth what made me so very unhappy before? Is that what I want? I don’t think it is. I think I am going to give it a little more time. I think I can make this work. I think I can get some traction and start making a living off of my writing. Will I ever be rich? Maybe not, but I think I’ll be a hell of a lot happier than sitting in a cubicle doing compliance training. Maybe if I had a family, a responsibility to anyone other than myself it would be a different scenario. But I don’t.
So I’m going to keep going and hope that my life does change. Hope that it evolves with my love of writing rather than spiraling down because of it. Work toward having the Manhattan apartment a small summer home, and maybe a Smart Car. I don’t need much.
I want to make it. On my terms. Doing what I love. And I suppose, in order to do so, there will be sacrifice along the way.