Wishful Thinking: An hour after I quit my job, my future path will be clear.
Reality: Oh, it’s clear alright. It’s clear I have no idea what I am doing.
Wishful Thinking: When I quit my job my apartment will be immaculate.
Reality: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA. Seriously, I keep losing stuff. The Apartment is not that big. I spent 10 minutes searching for free weights this morning. How do you lose free weights in a one bedroom apartment? It might have something to do with the fact that I keep moving the furniture around every 2-3 weeks.
Wishful Thinking: Once I leave this all-consuming job, I will write every day.
Reality: To be fair, I do use a pen every day. So, that probably counts. I should have been more specific.
Wishful Thinking: Once I leave this all-consuming job, my laundry will never pile up.
Reality: Hello, laundry, I promise to turn to you again at some point.
Wishful Thinking: Once I leave this crazy “all time zones” job, I’ll be able to sleep in every day (until I start work again).
Reality: Well, I don’t get up at 4:30 5 days a week anymore—4:45am is really so much more respectable. Go me.
Wishful Thinking: Because I wasn’t open to the other opportunities in the universe while I was working, those opportunities didn’t come to me. This will all change.
Reality: Perhaps the opportunities got lost, only had my work address and are even now trying to track me down?
Wishful Thinking: I will have time to read.
Reality: I’ve definitely started a book since I quit. I have every intention of finishing it someday.
Wishful Thinking: I will travel constantly.
Reality: I constantly watch shows about other people traveling. I’m currently pretending that I’m doing my due diligence just in case I ever need a home in Argentina. You never know.
Wishful Thinking: Every day I will wake up and choose another exciting thing to do.
Reality: Every day, I wake up. So far. Knock on wood.
This transition into my new and exciting life has not exactly gone to the wishful thinking plan I had. It’s not that I thought it would be easy—nothing ever is for me—but I did think I would be more focused in one particular direction. I thought at least one pursuit would jump out and scream “give this a shot.” Instead, I’m going to have to start clubbing opportunities over the head and dragging them back to the apartment. If only I knew where to find them—though I suppose it would take an act of God for me to approach them once identified anyway.