Well, here's some of the story. A cautious word: there's a swear in this one.
My left lung moved to the greater Los Angeles area. OK, so technically all five pulmonary lobes are still functioning within the confines of my rib cage, but I don't know how else to describe it. My friend moved. And it blows. It kicked me a lot harder than I expected it to. I mean, we still talk a lot, and I've even been able to go down and play already. But, man, this sucks.
Unrelated to the inopportunity of separated friends (or, more likely, in direct correlation to said friendship) I have also decided to get a job that pays in currency. I know that's what most people do, and it seems to work well for them, but it's been a while since I've pursued work for money. Most of what I do now I'm compensated for in goods and services and, for the most part, it suits me well. But the seasons they are a changin'. I have some new plans, and they require currency.
I'm going to go back to school. I'm kind of old-ish, and I'm pretty smart, so when I tell people I'm going back to school they think I'm going back for a Master's or something. Oh, no. I'm going back to finish my Bachelor's degree. Never finished it. I have a million credits, and I certainly did my time, but I didn't finish. I keep asking myself why not, and I have a lot of good reasons (no really, they're legit) but the truth is actually a lot more like my macro lens truth than any of the other "good reasons" I came up with. The real truth is that I didn't believe I merited the cost. Even though it was my time and my money. I haven't believed I've been enough (good enough, clever enough, fast enough, tenacious enough) to use my money for me. I believed (still believe) I was (am) a waste of money. Dude, that's just friggin' crazy. And it kinda fries me. And by "kinda fries me," what I really mean is that it makes me want to swear out loud and punch things. Big swears, too. Not courteous little four-lettered euphemisms, but big-ol' swears altered to function as nouns, adjectives, and adverbs, colorfully strung together into a great tapestry of outrage. But, crazy's not allowed to make the decisions around here anymore, so I'll exercise restraint and simply say, That's bull shit.
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| Meet my inner child. She be drivin' the bus for a bit. |
I have been living so, so small. I have down-played my own desires to their extinction. Nope. Just nope. Not allowed anymore. So I'm going to get a job that pays in actual currency. And I'm going to buy a macro lens. And a wet suit. And go to school.
