Pisaries Creator

It’s been a long week for me. I’ve been at my new job for a month now. I don’t want to jinx it but so far it’s been alright. I’ve slept throughout the night and deep enough to have some pretty intense dreams. I’m going to be making them into flash fiction soon. Another thing I encountered was feeling more tired than normal. I’ve been exhausted after work and while I have a reason, I do fight through it as much as I can. I’ve been watching movies and TV shows. I’ve been reading here and there. I took apart a half put together puzzle I wasn’t working on, but now I want to start another puzzle. I have a couple of great 2000-piece puzzles but right now I’m more willing to bite off a 500 or 750-piece puzzle. I haven’t done any sand or meaningful coloring. The one I’m working on has been ruined from not keeping it in a place where the condensation from my drinks doesn’t fall onto it. Why I’m still coloring it is beyond me. Maybe because I’ve spent too much time on it even though the design isn’t one I’m particularly fond of and finding the challenge of making it appear better.

The guy that proofread my first novel asked me if I was done with my second novel because I had given him an approximate date but then life happened. I lost my job, got another job, lost that job, got another job, and wondering through it all what is the purpose of me existing in the first place. I thought I knew the reason, but I’ve become less certain in the last ten years. I know what makes me happy and keeps me busy but wonder if that’s enough for me. I’ve lived a pretty low-key life and while it doesn’t take much to entertain me, I wonder if I could handle going out every other weekend and partying it up at night. I wonder if I could get the energy and motivation to even try it and do different things. Another part of me wishes I had the opportunity to do anything I wanted outside of work such as traveling at a drop of a hat, buying whatever car I wanted without worrying about how much it cost, and most of all knowing I will be retiring with more money than I would know what to do with.

That was my desire for a long time. In some ways, it still is. I suppose knowing I will never reach that place is depressing on some level. I’m not the only one who dreams of having this kind of luxury. I could very well have the opportunity to make more money in the future by learning the art of sales. Yet, this is not for me. I’m not into having that kind of stress. While I’m good at doing sales, I’m not great. If need be, I could rachet it up and be a go-getter, but I’d much rather write about salespeople and the kind of lifestyle they have. Which leads me to reframing and repurposing my own life. I know my goals have never changed for the past 20 years and I’m still straddling between making time to work on my goals and what I envision how it would feel and be like to experience my goals completed. Even getting some of them done will not translate into the idealistic picture of mine. Feeling somewhat settled is the best I can do right now. I thought the other day how much longer I have to live. I project at worst about 20 years, at best 30 years, ideal 40 years, and damn near a miracle 50 years. No matter what happens, I sure hope I have it within me to survive, thrive, and conquer as much as I can.