I've arrived in Southern California, got settled into my hotel room, ironed some shirts, got some food, stopped by a suit shop, and I'm thinking this feels more like vacation than work. Granted, I haven't done any work yet. That may play into my relaxed state slightly. I've got some temporary business over here, and I'm pretty excited about it. The California air is different. That, mixed with the apparently universal smell of hotel rooms, makes me really notice I'm in a different place. A nice place.
Dream as much as possible
I'm certain that I had intended that to mean actual dreams. The storms your unconscious drums up in the night, as opposed to your hopes and aspirations. It works both ways though, and I imagine the latter would be the more common interpretation. Looking for something better seems to be an important theme in my life currently.
I majored in Creative Writing, not a degree smart people geared toward making money generally choose. I'm not in it for the wealth. I'm where I am now because I dreamed. I thought that if I studied the art of writing, I would be better equipped to write novels, comics, television shows, poems, blog posts, etc... I think it helped my abilities to do those things, and I'm glad I did what I did, but I don't think it's going to catapult me into a mountain of cash any time soon.
Not setting out on a career path is slightly stressful, especially when I see others around me taking up the mantle of true adulthood. What keeps me from really freaking out is the knowledge that I'm following my dreams. So long as reality doesn't come crashing down around me, I'm going to keep a steady pursuit of a writer's life.
I want to write.
I'm going to write.
Hey, look at that, I'm writing.