Wow. I haven’t posted since April, but to be fair life has been rather hectic. I did end up finishing script frenzy with a few days to spare, although the news that script frenzy will hereby be canceled followed soon after. There go my screenwriting days, I’m afraid.
My script was about Fate and her involvement in people’s lives and how she really just wanted to choose her own fate in the end. Well, things have not exactly gone my way lately, and I suppose it’s all on me in the end. I may believe in fate but that doesn’t mean it’s somehow guiding my life to where it’s supposed to go. I think that if you want to make something happen, you’ve got to do it yourself. This is one reason why my book hasn’t sold well. I haven’t done anything with it aside from publishing it.
I’m not a marketer. I’m not that loud, obnoxious person who reminds my facebook friends weekly that they should go buy a copy because I’m not naive. I’m also lazy and afraid of failure.
The other day, someone at work said to me, “what do you really want to do?” And I’ve heard that question before. Plenty of people have asked me that since if you look at my work history, it has no direction, no clear focus. If it did, it would say I want to be a teacher or else a world traveler, neither of which are that appealing. I do love travel, but I also like home and rest. Traveling can be exhausting. Children are also exhausting so cross that off the list.
My coworker also made me realize that I haven’t had time to think about that question. I haven’t had a real vacation since over a year ago, and that vacation was spent in far off countries drinking radler beer and Viennese coffee. I wasn’t thinking about my life. As soon as I got back to the States, it was all about the job search with no time to really reflect on what I wanted aside from the sheer terror that comes with being unemployed in an economy ready to eat you up and spit you out in half a second. Whenever I sat down to think, all I could see was the fear of what lay ahead, the fear of unknown, the sinking feeling of disappointment when I would realize that I was twenty-four and nowhere near closer to figuring out my life than when I’d left for China.
My friend pointed out something else the other day. She said, “if you got the news that you were going to die in a year or even in five years, is what you’re doing now what you’d want to be doing?” If I had only a year to live, I certainly wouldn’t be where I am. I would quit my job, waste all my money traveling, and spend the rest of the time writing as much crap as I could, even if it would never be published.
My job at the moment is one of those 9-5 jobs that involves a lot of repetition and boring hours spent surfing the internet. Not a bad job, just boring. In my spare time, I spend most of it working on my freelance writing jobs. I currently have three employers, all with different projects and different due dates, and I have to keep up with them. The time I’m not working on that, I work on my own writing, my own stories and novellas.
I still don’t know what I want, or maybe I’m just afraid to say it, to say that I want to be a full-time freelancer who makes enough money to quit my other job and move wherever I want and get a puppy (I’m leaning towards a Boxer at the moment, or maybe a Doberman). That is what I want. There, I said it. At the moment, though, I don’t know if I have time to actually get enough work to make it full-time while still working my normal job. But it’s not like I can just quit my job. I have rent to pay. I have things to buy.
So. New plan: I am stuck in my current lease for a year. I will stay at my job that long and then quit. Depending on things, I can live with my sister or I might be able to rent their other house in ABQ. I’ll go full-time on the freelancing. I’ll be self-sufficient. Or. I had a job interview yesterday with a big company. I’ll stay there for a year and then transfer to a more desirable location. It’s all up in the air. Those are just a few options. At least I have options.