Ripped From The Pages #1

So I think I'm actually going to dedicate posts on my blog now and then to ones written before typed.  Quality Time With Me will be the titles, I think.  (Edit:  Upon further review that title has been discarded because it was so cheesy it wanted to make me vomit and then choke baby bunnies...  title will be changed).  Who knows.  Work in progress.   But I so enjoyed writing the other day and then posting.  It was lovely.

I find myself thinking more and more lately about what I want to do.  Not in some "Greater Purpose" epic kind of way, but more in a "I'd like to enjoy what I do" kind of way.

I think it's completely soul sucking to stay on my current path.  And no, I'm not talking about quitting my job.  Not at all.  I just think I need to find something that fills my spirit - as opposed to crushing it after beating it into submission...  to put it lightly.

Writing makes me happy but I know I don't write well enough to be paid for it.  I love to crochet but crocheting won't pay the mortgage.

I'm constantly thinking.  Constantly picking my own brain.  Constantly searching to find that something.  That very specific certain something.

I don't think about the fact that it might not exist.


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