Decided: I want to write and I want to fight. I don't, however, want to rhyme. I really love telling stories. I also enjoy writing out my thoughts in order to help me better understand what I'm feeling. What I'm feeling lately is trapped. I'd gladly write my way out, if someone would only pay me to do it.
I write for a living. I tell stories for a living. But the stories are not mine and the impact is not the one I envisioned myself having. There are things I really fancy about my job. There are things I really detest about it as well. But I'm at a point where it's about more than likes and dislikes. It's about time. As in 'how long can I really see myself doing this?' I''m not saying I'm going to quit my job any time soon, I still need to decide how to be when I grow up. I have to decide the life I want to lead before I can decide what means I'll need to lead it. I know I could be happy as a writer. Tiger Woods gets to do what he wants. So does Jesse. Why not me? I've been pushing to find my passion. And it's been exacerbated by the growing need to fight.
The more I train Muay Thai, the more I want to train. Everyday I learn something new and -- because I only train two hours a day -- I don't get to prefect it. Jesse put the bug in my ear to go to Thailand and train there. We do have a sister school there. And I'm pretty sure Master Toddy would let me just transfer my membership. The idea of training with the best -- and of having days and weeks to do so -- is fanciful. But being me, I have to think about the logistics. Namely, paying for my adventure and paying my bills while I'm gone. I'm not saying I'm going to Thailand, just that I will if I can.