Some Say I'm a Dreamer...

It is amazing how reading one entry on another blog can get my mind running and set my fingers to typing. I was visiting Petunia Face and low and behold, I see a quote she has posted months back that jacks me all up and makes me realize why I started thinking about a blog in the first place. Normal is getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work and driving through traffic in a car you are still paying for - in order to get to the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car, and the house you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it. ~Ellen Goodman, American Journalist, 1941 I cried last night for a good hour while I drove to Home Goods to look for decor for my home that I have no idea how to decorate (not that I do not know how to decorate, that I don't know HOW to decorate) anyway crying because I am creatively in a rut, WAY TO NORMAL as the quote describes. I am buried by the mundane cycle that has become my life. My time feels ill spent, my nights in a nutshell: drive home, make dinner, eat ...which is always too late and then bitch about the growth of my ass and the rapid decline of my waist, by decline I mean fat, goodbye waist hello one size fits all. But the majority of the tears were being wasted over my job. I am a 9-5 hater. I do not enjoy what I do and that is the down right shame of it all. I have a degree in dreaming. Want to own my own business, check, I've dreamt it. Want to become an actress, CHECK, that is a dream us with said degree can spend days on! Want to be a writer, of books, of blab, of anything, check, check, check. The issue that dreaming creates is that when you dream you get so caught up in what if's and how to's that the actual do's tend to die with the dream, not die, too harsh, they fade. They fade into the corner of your mind and heart so that they become a memory to smile upon when triggered by life. I have vowed to make a change, vowed to my husband (who is ever so kind to listen to my dreams and actually believe in me to push me to make them happen) that I will DO something, anything. Problem…I am comfortable in my hating of my 9-5ness and probably more scared than I care to admit and throw in a little lazy and tell her what she has won…that’s right crying for an hour and bitching on a blog. So where am I and what am I gonna do about? This won’t be my last bitch post. This post however puts me one step closer to using the degree I have been working feverishly towards for 32 years. ~S