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The Good Life. |
I can't figure out what the trigger was. I had clear, defined goals. Then... I started achieving them. And now? I don't know what I want. I'm not sure if it's because my business is more successful than I dreamed it would be, so instead of vision, I focus on mundane tasks. Or maybe it was the introduction of Sammy, our now eight-month-old puppy, into the household and my daily schedule. Maybe it was picking up an extra service at church and a new gig at the Mexican place, which fulfilled my needs for performance and income. But whatever the trigger, my give-a-shit has fizzled. This is one of those entries I expect will bore the poop out of readers. It would bore me. I wouldn't even post it, except that I'd like to document it for my memoirs (or my therapist?) when I'm rich and famous. I figure someone is going to want to see the highs and lows involved in becoming a superstar. Maybe future flounders will read this segment of my saga and think: Shit, if she could feel that way and still be the wealthiest, smartest, most well-known celebrity in the world, then maybe my own blahs aren't the end of the world. Even in lethargy I'm an ambitious, overachieving egotist. ![]() Reach 275 students at MTMS ![]() ![]() ![]() Writing: (1) ![]() ![]() (2) ![]() Count points: Hell no. Shut up. I've decided I have a love-hate relationship with Adele. She both rocks and sucks. |