Regardless of how long I’ve had my sight set on exactly what is unravelling before me, it’s a bit difficult to fathom. So truth be a told, I’m quite boring at the moment blog family. I’ve been doing a lot of blank sparing into space. A few times I’ve said to myself, “Is this actually happening?”
New York City changes my entire head-state. This is a big part of me getting back there. I could do without these icky, nervous breakdown bits in between.
I’ve been flipping through novel files. It’s strange. You know when your instinct talks to you? My instinct is chatting away to sit tight. I’m five minutes away from where I’ve been trying to get for a very long time.
It’s not that easy to swing a gig that will get your own apartment in New York City… I’ve been collecting degrees and working crazy jobs… pushing pushing pushing. All to get exactly where I am…
I realize I’m tripping. Because 99% of my time is basically spent alone down here in the land of Oz, I literally remain alone with my thoughts. Sometimes this breeds great writing, times like this it makes me all crazy like.
I’m going to wash clothes and pack a suitcase. I’m going to hug the puppies and tell them that I love them very much and promise to find the perfect place for us in Manhattan. I might cry for no rational reason what so ever. Sometimes I’m like that, I’m an emotional creature.
I’m going to pinch myself a few more times to make sure this is actually going down…