I am unable to truly fathom my path in life, and the crazier it gets when I realise I am actively trying to make my desperate dream come true. It feels a little too far away still but that's alright. I don't think I know enough, but I do think I am deserving of living my dream one day. At the root of it all, I know I want to be helpful. I want to be creative. I want to give direction. I want to be independent and prove to myself that I can be.
I may be aiming a little high - my own bookstore cafe is not easy to operate - but at this point in my life I see myself doing this in many different alternative outcomes.
I changed jobs to be a step closer. In September, I became a barista. I am doing myself a favour by doing something great for my work-life-balance, and at the same time, I'm learning the craft of what it means to be a barista, to run a café. I am finding a lot of joy in it.
I may be a fool to underestimate the impact a new job could have on me. I will think none of it was foreseen, but I am choosing to believe those around me who tell me I can excel wherever I am, that if I can survive one, then I could survive every Other.
It is scary - entering something new - but keeping a job as the single constant in your life does not seem right, especially when you feel like it is not bringing you anywhere near the thing you really want to do. Why keep the empty hand ticking?
Now that I stepped away, I found how much of a strain being a receptionist had on me, on my time and my energy. People can be lovely to work with, but not every person you encounter knows to appreciate what you do. It wasn't meant to be something I'd do for much longer, I see it now. At twenty-four, I am not supposed to feel this burnt out about one job. I am supposed to strive for what I want.
I chuckle at the epiphany now.