I want a different job. I want to do what I love.Then I’d get sick again.That’s how it feels when I’m stuck. In a job. A career (maybe a career I spent ten years training for and 20 years doing).
A relationship. An anything.I wish I had more often told myself: the past is not the jail keeper of my future.I think, “because I got a degree in X, I have to do Y.” Or because I’m living with A, this is it for life.
Or because I wrote about J, then this is my life now.Or because I failed once at business or art, I can never try again. Or because my parents want me to be a doctor, I have to be a doctor.Bad.I spoke with Matt Berry, and he was doing what I thought was a dream job, writing movies, but all he wanted to do was blog about fantasy sports.
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