Shit Just Got Real...

My truck is dead and I don't have the money to get it fixed.  That's alright though, walking gives me the discipline to get up and get to work on time, and gas is too expensive these days anyways.

I'd sit and cry about it, but I did that earlier.  If 2013 was the fairy tale, 2014 is starting off the exact opposite.  Oddly enough, I'm grateful.  After a year of fairy tale, I want the cold harsh truth.  I want someone to tell me plainly: how do I make what I'm dreaming about come true?  I don't want Mr. Perfect, or the best house on the block.  I want something less material: I want a career in the entertainment industry.  I don't want to be the singer or dancer or face of anything if I can avoid it, but I do want to be the person behind the scenes.

That is why this little setback with my truck won't end in tears again, I'd do better to save my tears for things I can't figure out, like how to find funding and for translating Hermann Hesse's "Narcissus and Goldmund" into a riveting stage play that parallels our times.

Tomorrow I'm calling my doctor for a referral to a life-coach and a therapist.  I really want change in my life, and I know that change starts with me doing things I'm uncomfortable with.  At first the idea of therapy really made me feel uncomfortable but I already feel uncomfortable.  

Like my best friend Sarah told me earlier today "You can do this."

I will do this, I will be better. I will do better.