I know this person, who we'll call Fuzzy Wuzzy. Fuzzy had a single dream, which he talked of routinely. One day, during a move to California to be a financial-blah-blah-boring-person (not his dream), he started talking to someone about what he really wanted to do. Oddly enough, the stranger was in the process of retiring from Fuzzy's dream situation. Stranger offered Fuzzy his dream...and Fuzzy declined. I have talked smack about Fuzzy ever since.
And now I'm in a position similar to Fuzzy. Something I've been wanting for YEARS has become available. Am I a chicken? You betcha. Do I know what I'm going to do about it? Not yet...I've put a moratoreum on any life-changing decisions until after my 30th birthday (T-Minus one month and counting). I can see why Fuzzy declined, but as I would like to respect myself in the future, I'm plotting away...
An Erinku:
I dream
of dirt
I dream
of ease
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