As odd as it may sound, what I have been whining about seeking, while on my quest to find my true passions and a possible career change, may be right in front of me. Literally, it might be the keyboard I am typing on and the screen I am staring at on a daily basis as I grind away at my loving blog. Moaning on and on to you, my loyal readers, I have continued to explain in detail about my heartfelt pursuit of self-employment, meaningful work days and something to motivate and excite me again. Maybe, just maybe, what I have been looking for is right here. What I am suggesting is this – maybe I am supposed to be a writer.
Let’s face it, I like to write and I am not the worst at it. Whether you enjoy listening to me vent about my random feelings, thoughts and dreams, I really enjoy jotting it all down, packaging it up and slinging it onto the information superhighway that is my mildly trafficked site. I have been writing for the entirety of my life and it has always originated from a place of honesty and rawness, only done whenever I felt the need and about topics that came from my inner being. Because of this, it is one of the most enjoyable activities I have in my life and I realize how true this is, even more so now, in 2020.
While I can’t make any money off doing this (because, let’s be honest, who is going to pay me to chat about how much I love my Hugo and how much I despise all of the ignorant ridiculous things I observe every day), I intend to continue doing what my long fingers seek – type away as if I was a trained pianist, sometimes not fast enough to keep up with my racing brain’s output. Just the fact that I came a little bit closer to realizing what makes me happy, well, that’s a pretty great thing. And boy do I have something to say (about nine topics in my queue as of tonight) so stand by…
