I’m back to enjoying Netflix and living my small quiet life again. All it took was a few days at work massaging people to make me want to crawl back into my den away from reality. I’m always tired here. I just want to sleep.
I want to see the sunset again the way it’s supposed to be seen. I don’t want to lose anymore time. I’ve lost enough time as it is.
It feels like I’ve spent most of my life in repair mode. Recovery mode.
I’m not shaping my life, my life is already there submerged in a cement block and I’m merely chiseling away at the surrounding debris. I chisel a little bit here and there and than recover from the exertion. Chisel, recover, chisel, recover. Sometimes I recover so much that I end up repairing the parts I already chiseled off. Like, wait a minute….I still need this part here or everything will fall apart. I need my support pieces.
Working is my number one support piece. I need to make one last valiant effort before I can let it all go. For real this time, not just for two months.
I’m going to pay off the $3,000 of debt I made for myself by January 5th. After that, I’ll be ready to start my next business phase – to open another massage clinic.
I have all the details already worked out in my head. Just one room in a quiet location that focuses on sound therapy. Each massage will be 75 minutes long and I’ll hire independent contractors only. “Keep it small, keep it all” as my brother once told me (yesterday….he told me this yesterday).
And that might do the trick. My little island off the main land. My missing support piece. I’m uncovering my support piece, chiseling the surrounding debris. It’s already there. You can’t float without water and money is my water.
Shit I’m tired.