Once upon a time, I had it all figured out. I was going to grow up, become a musician, sing lots of songs, play lots of concerts, and live happily ever after with my guitar and piano.
Once upon a time, I became realistic and decided to be a little more practical and make my living as an administrative assistant. I became the queen of spread sheets and discovered a knack for computers that I would have never guessed I possessed in my younger days.
Then I got bored with spread sheets and learned how to make artwork on the computer and once again, I reinvented myself. I was going to be an artist, and live happily ever after with my paintings, designs and . . .
It didn’t pay the bills.
So I decided that maybe I could be a writer. I even wrote a few books, that some people even sorta kinda liked. I met amazing people, and knew I was going to be a writer and live happily ever after with my word processor and royalties.
I think it’s time to get real again.
The guitar is dusty. I’ve not made a new picture for a long time. I get hives when I open the word processor.
What do I do now?