Well everyone. I got the job. Yes the job with the raise, the office with a view, across the street from Madison Square Garden, the sleep in since it starts at 9, but party because it still gets off at 5 because we get an hour paid lunch, not for profit, music industry magical dream job. That job. I have to admit while I was nervous, I’ve felt on a fucking roll. With the apartment I thought, “This is to good to be true, I’m to in love with it… there’s no way this will work out.” Yet, it did. So when this job came around I thought, “This is to good to be true, I’m to in love with it… but hey it worked for the apartment so I bet it’s gonna fucking work here. “ And it did.
So I sit here in my room with the sun streaming in after two days of rain, a cool breeze playing over my cheek bringing in the fresh smell of a baptized city that I love. I’m living in an ideal.
Yet, as is way of troubled humans, all the pieces aren’t in place. I’m a transplant to this perfect situation. I feel like I’ve entered a pristine white living room through the fireplace and I’m covered in my black sooty baggage. I’m not perfect, I’m not pristine, I’m the square peg and my life is the circle hole.
I know that’s not entirely fair. The idea of luck goes against my personal philosophy. I figured all the dirty details of my move. I got an apartment because I was diligent in my search. I got a job because I’ve cultivated a decent resume, I have good skills, work hard and I killed my interview. There was no magical force or omniscient being handing these things to me. I did it myself. Even still it’s hard to shake the undeserving feeling and I think a large reason why is because I’ve been setting all my ducks in a row outside of myself while my interior is dwindling and deteriorating.
I think I’ve failed if I feel like I need to drink a few beers before I can be myself. I’ve failed if I’m more worried about developing projects for the approval of my peers then for the purpose of actually improving my skills. I’ve failed if when listening to great music I sometimes actually get sad because I’ve squandered my own abilities. I. Have. Failed. If when I lay down at night I don’t have a feeling of satisfaction, but am worried to finally be alone with my thoughts.
So I’m developing some goals, some personal goals. Not to change myself, but to shed the excess that I’ve been piling on for the all the wrong reasons. To get back to who I want to be and who it is that makes me happy when I lay down at night. So, keep your eye out for it.
And don’t me wrong, I’m grateful and I’m incredibly happy. I just don’t want to fall and I don’t want to fail. I want to make the most of this momentum to make the most of myself.
PS – I’d be remiss to not mention dear Graeme who planted the seed for me earlier this week. Definitely a clear inspiration.
