When She’s Done, What’s Next?

Well, I’ve done it.

I have done it! I’ve managed to finish a story! In all of my years of being someone who loves to create little stories here and there, I’ve never finished them, ever! I’ve started them, and they’ve sounded amazing, but then they just sort of died. Sad little deaths. I’ve allowed the stories to disappear in my head; characters wiped clean from my mind, their world: gone. I would move on to something else because that’s how I used to work. Very fleeting, barely there. I would be quickly inspired by something else and that’s all it took for me.

I love to imagine characters and build a story about them as much as I can, immediately. I never ease into it, I used to always just dive right in. With this, however, I wanted to try and take my time. And so I did. Two years worth. On and off, like a relationship that was almost not going to make it but now here we are – married.

Melded perfectly and accepting one another in all of glory and dirt. Except, like me, she needs some work. She needs some internal work, so we’re going to fix her up. We’re going to make her better. She’s great right now, but it feels like she can definitely benefit from having some things added or cut. She’s in the process of seeing someone about that right now. I’m going to be there to hold her hand through it out and watch the beauty come shining through. And I’ve made this strange now…

Moving on! I said all of that to say that I managed to do something I didn’t think I knew I could do. But I made it happen and I’ve had some sleepy (yes, sleepy, because I definitely stayed up later than I should have, but I still got some sleep so no sleepless nights just yet caused by writing) nights. Yet it was all worth it though, because now I can breathe easy knowing I did it. I do feel an odd sense of accomplishment because of it. I feel like I can complete anything now, and that’s really good to hear because I’m still in the process of finishing up junior college to obtain my degree! But it makes me feel really good. I feel solid. I’ve made one of my characters come to an actual end of her story, but I intend on making it into a series so she’s not done yet, not for a while. I’m not done, but just the beginning of it is laid down. The foundation is there. I’m going to keep building on it. And I want to take you all along for the ride.

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You strive, or you die…

Sounds ominous, but it’s really not.

What I mean by that is in today’s world, we’re all really just surviving. Day to day. Pay check to paycheck. Hand to mouth. It all feels like this cyclic struggle that seems to be encapsulating us and I, for one, really am bored of it. I’m literally sick and tired of being sick and tired, always thinking what can I do to better my situation? Besides get this degree I’ve been slaving over, on top of motherhood, and full-time work, what else can I do? What can EYE do?

You hear the words “multiple streams of income” and think, sounds awesome, I need to get in on that. What can I do to create an opportunity for myself to get in on this many streamed money team? Who do I have to sleep with to get a money tree around here?! The answer is quite simple: yourself.

The answer is also not so simple. This new age is a time for the ultimate hustlers. People with the gift to sell. They can sell you something you probably have bought many times from somewhere else, but because they have this incredible talent to talk your money out of your pockets, to make you feel like you NEED said product in your life, you will part with you greens. Happily, might I add. You will give it up. Easy. Later on you might regret it, but at the moment you can only think ‘Wow, what a bargain!’ and just coast on through life for the next week or so with no worries.

I say all this to say, in this time, we have to do so much more than survive. We have to strive. We have to get in the mindset that we are going to see a better tomorrow, even if we have to struggle today. The struggle is the part that is going to build the character you need. I’m learning this the hard way. The struggle for me is to keep doing things I don’t really enjoy, until I get to the position where I can step back and give myself wholly to what I DO love. I’m doing things the hard way. Never meant to, but I guess in the words of my son, “The world made me this way.”

And with such sweet and strong words, I bid you adieu and goodnight!

Sidenote: feel free to check out my written works on Vocal Media! Thanks in advance!

Vocal Media

 

Meeting

(Excerpt Six)

Like D had mentioned, corporate (well more like some of their reps) was making their rounds. The week came and they had decided to come in a little later, something about unforeseen interruptions. It didn’t matter to any of us at our office as we were prepared for them. We were a boring lot anyway, we rarely had any issues that we knew would hinder us from running our “shop” the best way possible. Our employees were satisfied, happy even. Service seemed to be the best it could be this month, so numbers were shooting up. It looked like the corp folks were in for a treat!
The day I decided to be a little on the late side was when I walked into the conference room, and was immediately hit with a musk of strong cologne. The smell overtook the entire space it felt like, and it was debilitating to my sense of smell, but I smiled through it. Choking was a tender word for what was happening to me at that moment.
I walked in and was immediately introduced to a few chairmen, one chairwoman (Carla; I only remembered because she was the only woman and she smelled very sweet), and finally, the man we had all been waiting for: Andrei. He was very tall. That was the first thought that came to mind when I saw him. His handshake was very firm, he barely smiled, and he didn’t really say anything. He just nodded his head like that was enough. His eyes were definitely worth remembering, as they were a very confusing thing for me because I couldn’t tell if they were hazel, green, gold, or what! I just knew there was something about him. Something more. I let that stay on my mind as I mingled around the room. I ended up getting stuck with talking to chairman Bob Rossford. He was old, wrinkly, pale, and probably was the reason for the over indulgence in cologne. As I was speaking with him, it was wafting off of him quite viciously. He kept trying to get closer to me and I kept backing away bit by bit, without trying to look like I was trying to escape. He wasn’t funny but he thought he was. I just humored him by laughing when he did. My fake laugh wasn’t too bad.
And while I was trying to give him some of my attention, I let my eyes slide over to where Andrei was. He was quietly watching everyone. He wasn’t talking to anyone. And then he caught me looking. I tried hard not to look too much but it was odd that he didn’t feel like talking to anyone in the room. I took the time to take notes on him with every sneaking glance I had of him. He had dark wavy hair, maybe even black, with a part to the side. You could tell he took pride in his appearance as no hair was really out of place but also looked like he wasn’t trying too hard, if that was possible. He had a nose that looked like it had been broken once, as there was a scar on the bridge of his nose. His skin was very tanned, more tanned than D, and D was a beautifully sun-kissed Greek. He had a bit of a mustache that didn’t interrupt the fullness of his top lip that led into the fullness of his bottom lip. He had dark lashes that were so thick that it looked like he was wearing mascara, but he wasn’t. His navy suit was expertly tailored and fit him like a glove with no tie, top two buttons undone on his almost grey dress shirt. He appeared to be at least 6’2. I considered myself somewhat good at judging height and that’s what I was getting from him. His shoes were hard-soled, black, and shiny. And under all that, was an energy. A great sense of power, like you knew he was the man in charge of everyone in the room. His silence spoke volumes.
I was almost tempted to bother him but someone beat me to it. D walked over and introduced himself and finally Andrei cracked a genuine smile, or it looked genuine, as they shook hands. And Andrei started talking. I wanted to lean in closer to their direction to hear what his voice sounded like but I didn’t want to be too rude to Mr. Rossford. Well, anymore rude than I probably already was unbeknownst to him. He was in good spirits and needed someone to stick around and humor him. I obliged but I kept throwing my eyes in D and Andrei’s direction. I caught a bit of their conversation because D was just that loud, and it sounded like they weren’t speaking any English. And I finally caught a hint of what Andrei sounded like and it was a deep and haunting voice. Smooth and thick like molasses. He played with his mustache a little, almost like it was a nervous touch that he did but I didn’t know him at all or enough to make that sort of assumption. Then he caught my gaze again. It was getting unnerving for me to keep letting that happen but I was being nosy. So it was my own doing.
Then it looked like Andrei was excusing himself and was walking over to me and Mr. Rossford’s direction, and he was. He put his hand on Mr. Rossford’s shoulder and Bob looked up at him. “Oh, Mr. Vulpes, care to jump in on this little conversation?”
Andrei smiled. “No, Bob, I just came to dismiss you while I spoke to this young lady who seems to have a staring issue.” He pronounced the ‘s’ in issue like you’d say ‘sue’, the name. His accent was quite thick. I couldn’t place the accent though.
Bob gave a hearty laugh. “Well, let me leave you to it!” Bob turned his attention back to me. “Seems a little reprimanding is in order for you. No one has ever told you that staring is rude?”
I was confused and probably looked it as I watched Bob walk away and harass Morissa, who didn’t seem like she had the patience for it.
“I’m Mr. Vulpes, your name is?”
I returned my attention back to Andrei who had his arms crossed and was giving me stern eyes. “I’m Makaela, and I wasn’t staring. Well, I wasn’t trying to,” I told him, and it was true. I really wasn’t trying to stare but he was rather odd to me.
He didn’t say anything, just looked at me. Maybe even through me. Then I saw him look me straight in my eyes then his eyes went down like he was sizing me up, then back up into my eyes. I was wondering if I should be offended in that moment. “What do you do here?”
I was feeling nervous all of a sudden. I cleared my throat a bit, then spoke. “I’m the operations manager. And what do you do?”
I tried to be funny but it looked like it wasn’t going to work on him. He just kept on with that so-serious look. He didn’t answer my question, just kept on glaring at me. Almost like he was having thoughts. Maybe not nice ones. Or giving me a taste of my own medicine since I was stealing little stares at him earlier, or glancing. I was hoping I wasn’t going to be fired. He made a sound like ‘hm’ and smoothed his forefinger and thumb over his mustache. I noticed the cupid’s bow on his top lip was prominent and I liked that. He had nice lips but then I noticed the split in his top lip on the right corner, a scar. Then I snapped out of that and reminded myself he’s the boss.
“I apologize if I was staring, I honestly wasn’t trying to.” I took a sip of my water that I came into the room with. He still didn’t budge.
“Makaela. That’s a nice name.” He unfurled his arms from across his chest, to let them rest at his sides.
He definitely had a strong accent, and was confirmed to be one I hadn’t heard before, but a strong European accent for sure. Now that he was closer to me, I could see his eyes were indeed hazel, and they held gold and green flecks within them. He had high cheek bones. He was very well sculpted, accept for that nose. It wasn’t crooked or anything but there was a bump there, just a tad. He was looking me over too, I could tell. So we were both being a little rude in the moment, staring at one another. He smoothed his hair back a bit and it barely moved. He probably had a lot of holding spray in it for it to hold its shape the way it was. He was slim but more than likely an athletic slim figure, not without muscles. I could just tell.
I then felt like he was towering over me all of a sudden. I knew he was tall but he made me feel incredibly small in that moment, looking at him.
“I am a little unsure what to ask you about now,” I gave a nervous chuckle. He barely cracked a smile but he did allow for a bit of curl of the lips. His energy seemed to relax a bit as well.
“You are nervous and I don’t see why. I am just a worker, like you. I just happen to work from a higher…um…position. I am sorry, my English still leaves much to be desired. I do not visit the U.S. often. I only practice when I need to. So forgive me.” He tucked his right hand into his pocket. “My apologies. I’m Andrei. Vulpes.”
He still didn’t offer me his hand to shake so I just nodded. “Nice to meet you but you already introduced yourself. Some of us here were curious about you.”
“You shouldn’t be. I’m very stale.” He finally smiled. He was breaking a little at a time.
“Well, we just want to see the man behind the title.”
“Were you curious?” He asked as he kept his eyes on mine. It was making me uneasy, as he was my boss’s boss’s boss, and he was very attractive.
“I was. Kind of.” I was going to mention how Andy and Morissa were the most curious but I kept my mouth shut on that. “How do you like it here so far?”
He shrugged. “I’m not in love. Not my style. I miss my country honestly. I am here for business and business only, so I do not intend on getting too comfortable or familiar here. I will do my duties and see myself away from here soon enough.”
He sounded like he didn’t too much care for his new position and that was freaking me out because he was the CEO, and here he was, admitting that he wasn’t a fan already.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I wasn’t really sorry.
“It is quite alright. You have a lot of sushi here. Why?” He looked seriously perplexed.
I let out a snicker. “I don’t know. Sushi is very popular here.”
“You should show me a good sushi place. Maybe you can make me love it.” He looked serious again. I could tell he wasn’t joking, although I secretly wished he were. He didn’t look like someone who joked a lot. His English was sounding a bit better as well.
“Are you for real?” I was honestly astonished. I felt like my eyeballs were about to push through my lids.
“Yes, I’m very serious. I want to see what’s so delicious about this sushi. I don’t eat sushi.”
Um. “Oh. Oh. Okay. I can do that. Should we bring the rest of the group in on this?”
“No. They’ve had sushi. I have not. I don’t want them all around. I just want you.” He touched my arm tentatively. Then dropped his hand back to his side. He was being weird and it was making me feel awkward. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t scream sexual harassment. Not then anyway. This attention was my own fault. After he touched me, I looked around to see if anyone noticed. No one seemed to be paying us any mind.
“Well,” I started, then took another sip of my water. He was making my mouth incredibly dry. I kept looking into his eyes. I swallowed quickly and finally finished, “I don’t see the harm in showing you a good sushi spot. You sure you don’t want to bring someone with? Besides myself, of course.”
He shook his head, his hair still stayed in place. “No. Just you. Just me.”
I nodded quickly. I looked around again to see if anyone was watching us, and they weren’t, or appeared to be better at sneaking looks than I was. Now I was in trouble, all because I was looking too much. “Okay. I can do that.”
“Perfect. I will get your information and we will take a car service. I will arrange for this. You just make sure to think of the best place to show me.”
And he turned and walked away from me, leaving me to wonder what the hell just happened. I felt somewhat embarrassed and foolish. My boss’s boss’s boss basically was forcing me to go on a date with him, and he probably didn’t know it. Or, maybe he did.

Aware

(Excerpt 5)

I woke up in the middle of the night to Mitch’s soft snoring. My queen-sized bed was a decent size for me but with him in it, I felt like I didn’t have any space at all. He was on the left side and I was on the right, but it felt like he was everywhere. Or maybe I was just being selfish, and was too used to sleeping alone, and didn’t want to share my space with anyone. Or maybe I just didn’t want to share my space with him. Whatever the case was, I wasn’t in the mood to be in my bed with someone else. Besides, it didn’t seem all that long ago that Darius was sharing this very moment with me.
I curled up in a ball remembering Darius and how he liked to spoon. How I had fit perfectly as his little spoon and him the big spoon, his arms encircling my tiny waist or around my shoulder, his hand under my pillow alongside my hand under my pillow. I sighed remembering how his chocolate brown skin felt so soft and smelled so good-muscles working in his sculpted arms.
Darius was my ex and I thought he was the one. Actually, I knew he was The One. You know, “The One”. I always figured he was probably too good looking for me, and I kept telling myself that, especially when my eyes met his in my old gym, where I met him. He wasn’t a trainer, just some guy I always noticed because he was in the gym around the same time that I was, when I was actually going. Nowadays, you couldn’t catch me going through a gym entrance to save my life. But that’s where I met him.
He was lifting weights, of course, working on his upper body. I definitely was paying attention, because he was a very good looking man. He had dimples, a bit of a goatee but it didn’t look cheesy on him. Nice, straight white teeth. He always kept his black hair neat, trimmed, lined up, but he had a bit of gray at his temples at the age of 38 and I loved it. He was gorgeous to me.
I was on the elliptical and I was trying to focus on listening to the music and pushing myself to keep going. I was very slim, trimmed, but curvy in all the right places, but I was striving to have my cardio be on point. I remember I was in the zone and when I reached for my water, I miscalculated my reach and smacked the bottle right off the holder and it fell. It rolled a little and I took off my headphones, not wanting to wait for the elliptical to slow down, and tried to step off when I damn near twisted my ankle like an idiot. I tumbled a little and fell on my knee but it didn’t hurt all that bad, it was just an embarrassing moment for me. I tried to play it off like I didn’t care and continued to get my bottle when Darius came up to me. I looked up at him as he started talking, saying hello and asking me if I was okay. I nodded and got up. “Yeah, I’m fine, thank you.”
He smiled and that’s when I became putty. “You sure? You look like you were about to break your ass hitting that floor like that.”
I shook my head and smiled. “For real, I’m good, thank you again for asking.”
I started to make my way back onto the elliptical when he just stood in front of it, watching me almost. “What’s your name, if I may ask?”
“Makaela.” I offered to him but didn’t ask for his. I didn’t want to seem too easy, too interested. Playing games, I guess.
He stuck out his well-manicured hand. “Darius. Nice to meet you, Makaela.”
“You as well,” I said as I shook his hand. It was soft, which was surprising.
“I see you in here working out, and I always think to myself how mean you look. You probably get that a lot.”
I just looked at him and he lost some points with me. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to get at but it was not what I wanted to hear, especially if he was trying to hit on me.
He pointed at my face. “See? That look right there: mean. You look like you’re ready to beat my ass in here just for saying that.” He just kept smiling, like I was amusing him.
I got safely back onto the elliptical and proceeded to reach for my earphones. “Are you hitting on me or trying to get my number or what, because that’s not going to help you at all.”
He laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to come off rude, or disrespectful even. I was just trying to make fun with you, not of you.” He said as he let the humor fade a bit. “I wanted to talk to you, I would like to talk to you. Outside of this place. If that’s alright with you.”
I pretended to give it some thought but I already knew the answer was yes and always had been yes from the very start that I saw him and that spine-tingling smile. I noticed he wasn’t extremely tall, 5’11, but that was more than tall enough for me standing at 5’0 flat! I looked into his brown eyes and said, “Alright, we can do that.” And we did that.
We shared many great moments together. We traveled together. I got to meet his family back in his hometown of Chicago. We even moved in together, talked about possibly getting married and starting a family together. Our own little clan, the Williams Clan, he’d say. The love making felt like we could move mountains and shift the earth on its axis. We had what I felt was a soul quenching relationship for the 4 years we were together. He was a beautiful soul to me and I loved him for bringing me light. Right until the very end.
Darius 3 and a half years into our relationship was offered a position overseas in Japan. I was willing to quit my job and follow him to his next destination because I was serious about us. And he said he was as well. He was working for FedEx as a senior marketing specialist and they wanted to relocate him to Japan. He accepted. We discussed when it would be taking place and how soon we needed to sell everything we weren’t taking with us and packing up everything we were taking. We had approximately six months to figure this out but we were both so excited about this new beginning. Our babies would learn a different language, learn about another culture and be so blessed. We just knew our lives were going to be forever changed for the better.
The day came when he had to go back home to tell his folks the good news about the job and how close we were getting to leaving for Japan and possibly, getting married before we left. I dropped him off at the airport and got to see him off. We kissed goodbye and it was all good. When he touched down in Chicago O’Hare Airport, he called me to let me know he made it and was on his way to his folks’ home. I got a call the next day from his mother. She told me that Darius had been shot while out trying to buy some celebratory champagne to bring back to their house so they could toast to all the great things that were happening, and he was in the hospital. I was so on edge and was willing to drop everything to be by his side. His mother told me not to worry, that the doctor would let her know how bad it was. The day after that, his father called with the grim news of Darius’s passing. I didn’t immediately cry. I felt so numb. I just let him tell me, heard the straining in his voice as I listened. When I hung up, I just went to my room and let the hot tears stream down my face while I laid down on my bed, our bed. I didn’t have Mr. Chow then, so it was really just me, by myself.
I remembered taking a shower eventually and just breaking down, bawling so loudly in the shower that I was sure the neighbors probably thought I was dying! Or crazy. Either one, I was there in the breakdown and feeling every ache in my chest. It felt like my heart was ripping and tearing. I sat in the shower for over an hour just letting the tears flow freely. I cursed God, I cursed all that was good because of Darius’s death. I didn’t even reach out to my best friend. I just let myself be consumed with anger, sadness, rage, melancholy. Everything that was not happy and joyful, I wrapped around me and held it close. I held it so close that I just let myself stink with the scent of it.
I took time off from work and after almost two months of being a total recluse, I decided to talk to Sandra and she forced me to come out with her for a drink. I didn’t want to but she said it was what I needed. I told her she couldn’t tell me when to stop grieving and that I had every right to want to be alone. She wasn’t hearing it and picked me up. I got into her car and didn’t pretend to be happy about the whole thing. I was unhappy, and it showed.
She drove us to North Park and we went to Seven Grand. “I promise you, you’ll thank me for this,” she said once we got inside. It was a Friday and it was relatively quiet for a Friday night. But then again, it was a slight chill in the air that night. Fall had made its way to us. She ordered a cocktail, I ordered a ginger ale. She said hell no and made me order a whiskey sour. I let her. Once we got our drinks, she and I started to play a bit of pool, even though I was trash at it. We did it and then the drinks started coming a little more. I was having a fairly okay time of it, I even laughed a little here and there. I was right in the middle of a spill of laughter when I accidentally bumped into this delicious gentleman by complete accident, almost spilling my drink on him. I looked up and met green eyes and a mustache set in a tanned face, only it wasn’t a tan, he was just olive skinned. I couldn’t tell that night anyway. “I’m so sorry,” I told the nice guy as I got back to my game with Sandra.
“No need to apologize, you’re fine,” he said, as he walked by, probably to meet up with friends while I continued on with Sandra.
When we were all set to leave, because she got her buzz and so did I, we were walking out of the exit and I felt someone bump into me. I turned to see what the asshole looked like and it was the same green-eyed fellow.
“My turn to apologize, I guess,” he said as he stopped walking by me.
“Apology accepted,” I told him as I was turning back to leave with Sandra.
“You’re really pretty. I just had to tell you that,” he said and I turned back to face him.
I was intoxicated, and the wind was biting my cheek so I was sure I was blushing pretty hard. “Well thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself.” I stared up at his eyes. “You have some really pretty eyes.”
He smiled, the wind playing in his hair. “Thank you.”
“Oh my gosh, come on, I’m freezing out here!” Sandra was ready to go.
“Let’s talk later. Here’s my card,” he pulled out his wallet, which was pretty much congested with receipts and business cards aplenty, finally handing me his card.
I read out loud his first name. “Dimitri. I like it. I’m Makaela.” I stuck out my hand for him to shake.
He grabbed my hand in his as he shook it, and his hand was warm. “Dimitri and Makaela. Sounds nice together, right?” He joked.
It was my turn to smile, as I started walking away from him and towards Sandra. “I’ll call you, Dimitri.”
“I hope so,” he said with a smirk. He had one dimple, I noticed. I just waved and turned back to Sandra as she looped her arm through mine while we walked to her car. “I think he’s very cute. You really should call him,” she told me as she pulled out her cellphone and just ended up calling us an Uber to my house since we were both intoxicated and clearly couldn’t drive.
I thought about it. “Maybe. I don’t know yet.”

Do We Have A Purpose?

screen-shot-2014-06-21-at-11.34.56-am.pngI have to step back for a moment and really think about it.

I have to ask myself do I have a purpose? What could it possibly be? Is it something that will just come to me or do I have to go out there and actually find what it is I should be doing?

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty sure we all have something we love doing, the one thing that you could see yourself doing forever, but what if you’re someone who is good at a lot of things? How can you pick just one thing to focus on? That’s where my problem lies.

I’m really great at communicating (I get nervous of course, but I know how to stop, take a breath, and continue on even when I experience a bit of “word-vomit”), I’m personable, I’m completely relatable, and I know how to connect with people on a personal level. I also am a creative person, that’s how I get excited about a lot of subjects. Anything that I feel is a creative outlet, I’m there. I am also into reading and writing (sounds incredibly cliched but it’s very true; I have a mountain of books and I have a story that I’m currently doing as well), heavily! I try to find new ways to express myself when it comes to writing. Hence why I do try to blog. Where I am somewhat of an extrovert, I do have my introvert moments. I like to stay behind sometimes, and I think that’s what’s keeping me from being even more out there. That’s hurting me but I don’t change it. Maybe I should?

This brings me to purpose and why it is I’m having a bit of a “time” with it. I know what I’m great at, then what I’m good at, and what I’m bad at. I try to focus on my strengths more than anything, but I also understand that I can’t do many things at once (or can I? See? That’s my problem!). I know I have to focus on one thing that I know I can do exceedingly well. The issue I’m having is can I turn that into something I can monetize so that I’m not a miserable Betty. Another thing is quantifying that and putting it into action someway, somehow. Then there is the over-saturation with the main thing I know I love, because now, everyone thinks they’re a guru and knows what they’re doing and talking about.

As of late, however, I have recently decided instead of continuously thinking about it, and talking about it, I should just put action behind it. I’ve been incredibly inspired by getting more into a few social media outlets that have connected me to a whole new source of strength; a renewed vision of what I want. I’m not saying I may have found my purpose, but I’m excited about something and I haven’t been in long time. It still ties into the main thing I really wanted to partake in, but I want to attack it in a different way, and get people really interested in it. The fact that I’m elated about it let’s me know I may be on the right path to finding what it is I want to do for the rest of my life.

NeverEnding Story

Life has been taking some very interesting twists and turns as of late, and ever since I’ve taken space away from my blogs.

I’ve moved (twice), I’ve resigned myself to finishing school (and gaining my Bachelors in BA), and have lost two jobs (due to no fault of the employees’ own). So to say that I’m feeling a little uninspired is not saying much at all.

The ride has been mildly entertaining, although I have definitely been going through a full range of emotions, from sad to angry and depressed to cheerfully optimistic. The only constant that has been a true pillar for me is my son, and that’s probably more than enough, because I can’t ever let myself really fall apart around him, no mater what. I wouldn’t dare let myself get down enough to let him feel the energy around that would affect him in a negative way. I always want him to be happy and to smile, no matter what I’m going through internally. The confusion, however, is slowly taking over.

I am trying to get away from the familiar but a lot pulls me back into the field I know so well. As much as I want to stray and put my energy into something else, something more fulfilling, I am holding myself back. It’s a sad case, but one I am battling all of the time. I’ve been trying to keep going, to keep myself busy and distracted with other work for other people, but it always comes back to what do I want. That’s the question I am continuously asking myself. I am serious need of some real evaluation. I think that would really make me feel more inspired. The industry I love, I feel, is falling down little by little. If I want to continue on this path, I will have to take some risks, and create my own path if I’m going to stick around.

I know one thing for certain, I am going to make sure I always leave room for this outlet.