This morning I woke up and was overwhelmed by wave after wave of self doubt. What if I crash and burn? What if I have to work shitty job after shitty job for all eternity? What if, in reality, my writing sucks? (Which is a definite possibility).
I've already set the deadline for myself that I want to be done massaging by the end of this year. That's not a long way off. I don't mind working a crappy job for a little while, but there has to be a light at the end of the tunnel. I don't want to settle for reality. I want my dream job. A job that I wake up happy every day to do. Why is that so impossible?
I think I'll go for sushi tonight after work. I need a pick-me-up. (After all, is there anything more wonderful than sushi? The answer is no. Unless we're talking sweet tooth wise, but that's an entirely different story). People say things will look brighter in the morning, but for me they always look worse. At night everything is possible. It's when I wake up in the morning that the glare of reality is far too apparent.