Everyone I've said this to has said "Huh?"
Apparently it only makes sense in my head.
I have my new perfect job. It's a lot like my old job, which was perfect, except that it's full-time, pays more, is more complex and therefore more interesting, AND this company will not close its doors any time soon; the economy doesn't affect it the way it affects small bakeries.
AND I can move away from home and be independent now!
(Full disclosure: I have gone from living with my parents to living with my aunt. After irresponsibly spending all my savings on college (I hate you, ACC!) it's going to take some time before I can really afford an apartment and all the deposits required to start all of that independent-living stuff. I am completely aware that living with my aunt is technically no different from living with my parents.)
But I'm so much closer to The Dream.
You know, The Dream of living in my own apartment, writing all day long, and supporting myself with my own work. Of course I can't write all day long and work full time at the same time. However, I take comfort from the long and honorable tradition of beginning writers having day jobs.
Airplanes often fly over my new workplace. Sometimes they're taking off, sometimes they're landing, sometimes they're doing barrel rolls and crossing back and forth several times. It's noisy and annoys almost everyone.
But to me, every time I hear an airplane (I pretend they're all taking off) I remember that every day is taking me closer to The Dream.
I'm not in a holding pattern anymore. The engine is on, the flaps are down, I'm going down (up?) the runway, picking up speed, making a racket....
.... And someday I'm going to fly.
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