One of my favorite movies of all time is Office Space. Ok well I don't know if it really is one of my favorite movies, but for the moment it is. I like my job. I do. I am grateful to have it. However I am getting a little restless right now. It's warm outside. I am still used to having summers off. I'm tired of working on projects that never get used or utilized to their full potential, of getting pulled onto projects that I probably shouldn't be working on and have no experience in. Sure, sometimes that means I get to do cool things, things that at other places I would never get to have a say in. But not always. Not this time.
Anyway, I would rather be writing. After all a writer must write. If not that then at least reading a book. So now that you understand my frame of mind, you can understand why this is one of my top movies right now.
I always get restless. I suppose everyone does, but some just suck it up and others break. I'm a breaker. I don't like doing the same thing for too long. I get frustrated. I hate being tied down. I can't imagine working at one place for five years, or ten years. How can anyone work at the same place for that long? This fear is part of the reason why I fight so hard to be a writer. I want to live on my own schedule, doing the thing that I love the most. I want to wake up when I want and have the option of sitting on my bed and cranking out two chapters, or hopping down to the bookstore and taking notes in the cafe. I want to be able to take a break at ten if there is a interview on the radio I hear, or sit outside if it is a beautiful day. I want to wake up knowing that those choices are mine, and not feeling like I'm forced to spend my time working on making someone else's dreams come true. When do you stop working for someone else and start working for yourself? Do I have some unnatural flaw that prevents me from holding down a sane job? Do I have some extreme fear of commitment?
That is, I am sure, just what my mother would love to hear. That I, her eldest daughter, has a fear of commitment. It would only further her belief that I will not get married for another ten years. Ten years? Good lord. I want to be working on my second divorce by then. Honestly, talking to my mother about weddings was stressful enough to make me want to elope. My mother I am sure would love that. I have never really included my family into my personal life, even as an adolescent. There was always this piece of me that I had to keep to myself. I suppose that getting eloped would be that part of me, desperate to get the last laugh.
But Alls well that ends well. And this saga I call life will end well. I have to have faith. I have to believe. Otherwise, what would be the point.
So I am thinking of innovative ways to make money, and support myself while I write. Any suggestions out there? I would greatly appreciate it.