You Can Be The President
Those mission posts were done from my cell phone while I was attending a function. I am on a mission, though. Go out to PA. Sell a manuscript. Quit my job. Everything else will fall into place. Honestly, I could quit any day and live out of my car, but it makes seeing my daughter hard. Haven't ruled it out yet, though. Yeah, I'm disliking it that much, and I do feel bad about an e-mail I sent to my supervisor where I kind of laid out what is bugging me.
Instead of concentrating on the hate, I am going to channel that energy into getting out of there. It'll be good for my sanity.
And once I fly out to PA, a plan will be set into motion and live will be good.
"Don't want a gig or a good time" -- Black Flag
Truth be told, I'm all for gigs and a good time, but concentration is key. Being focused laser-like on the ultimate goal. Set myself and family up for life. My biggest wish is that my daughter never have to deal with the fuckwads that I must put up with. I know she'll run into her share, but I hope it's never on this massive scale.
I would love for this blog to earn me some decent income. It's a slow ride there, but the word of it is starting to get out. Promote, promote, promote. That's not something I ever liked (as my publisher will tell you). I believe in letting the work sell itself. Promotion feels too much like, "Buy my snake oil. It will cure what ails ye." I was never comfortable doing that sort of thing and have a hard time trusting those who are. It always feels a little whorish, if you know what I mean.
Focus, like a samurai, on that mission. Blood staining the clothes and the sword cutting through bone. Eyes open while I sleep.
This is what I need to do. This is what I must do.