This morning I got out of bed, walked down the street and had breakfast and a latte and now I'm snug in my apartment with the gas fireplace on and jazz radio playing softly in the background. God, I love living here. Sometimes I think I love it a little too much, to the point where even if some fantastic gentleman came along and swept me off my feet, I wouldn't want to move, and I probably wouldn't want to have to share this space either. So I don't know. Being so contented here worries me. :)
This reminds me of my brother's situation, where he has to work a day job he hates but he's a filmmaker and a writer at heart. He stays with the crappy day job instead of finding something that would content him more because the dissatisfaction of his daily situation keeps him working on the writing and film. I totally get that.
Hopefully my contentedness will be a good thing, relationshipwise. If I was dissatisfied with my living situation it might cause me to jump into something I will regret with someone who isn't worth it. So my kick-ass apartment and neighborhood will help me keep my standards high. I hope.
I hope you're all having lovely weekends.
xo,
C
2 comments:
i get where you're coming from. some days the discontent of the day job doesn't feel as much of an artistic boon as a total drag. but what can you do?
You're brother and i sound very similar. Job I hate. Dreams of a life of creativity. Feeling trapped by life kinda blows.
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