On occasion, it becomes clear to me there are still areas in which I need to grow. For instance, I relate too much with Mark Wahlberg’s character in The Big Hit.

I still want everyone to like me.

Why?

Why am I so deterred by confrontation? Or even the possibility of confrontation? Seriously!

I’ve been working at a restaurant part time since last summer. I’ve enjoyed it, met a lot of cool people, even discovered I have a flair for the job. Some of these friendships, I’m certain, will last a long time.

Yet, now I’m too busy. It’s time to step back and free up some time.

So, I decided to quit that job.

People quit jobs every day. Most people don’t have a problem doing it. Hell, in this industry most people just stop showing up.

I don’t want to do them dirty like that. Guess you could say I was raised better than that. You turn in the notice. Give them time to find a replacement. Be willing to accept the possibility you’ll be removed from the schedule.

So, riddle me this: why have I been agonizing over doing this since making the decision two weeks ago?

Since starting down this career path, I’ve been enjoying a relatively stress-free life. Free from illness. Free from sleeplessness (mostly).

Until two weeks ago. Since then, I’ve been enduring the cold from hell. So, why is telling someone, “I quit,” creating so much stress?

Guess we all have our weaknesses.

I’m aware of the issues my departure will create... it’s the inner manager in me. Yet, this isn’t my circus, not my monkeys.

How do I evolve past that?

It was Colonel Mustard, in the coat room, with a wire hanger.

I know. But it made her laugh.

We all need the clowns to make us smile.

What i'm listening to:

I Refuse
The Cars
Heartbeat City

Man, I hate being sick. Don’t wanna eat, don’t wanna drink, don’t wanna read, don’t wanna do anything—but sleep, and binge watch television.

I suppose I shouldn’t complain. This time around, it’s been just over thirteen months since my last serious viral event. And the drugs seem to have me quasi-functional.

Yet I’m still annoyed. I don’t get sick anymore. I tell my coworkers it’s because my guardian demons consume the soul of anyone who gets me sick. Well, they dined last night.

Downside of getting sick rarely, is the lack of Sprite and chicken soup in this house. Oh, and the Kleenex. Pro tip: don’t store Kleenex in the same cupboard as the fabric softener. Newly scented Kleenex doesn’t do much to reduce irritation or control sneezing.

Upside is, a friend left his Netflix password in my Wii. I wonder if he’ll notice someone is binge watching Cheers?

Last weekend, I watched one of my favorite movies. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off has always ranked high on my watchability list, yet it’s a bit deeper than I initially realized.

This time, the museum scene struck me as incredibly profound. Watching Cameron having that moment with the girl in the Seurat painting—as the camera zooms closer and closer into Cameron’s eyes, then to the girl, back to Cameron, back to the girl. Cameron’s world seems to get clearer, as the little girl simply disappears.

It was this weekend, I finally realized this is Cameron’s story. Not Ferris’s.

Hey, I never said I wasn’t dense.

More often than I care to admit, I begin my day like Cameron. In bed. No interest in getting up. No interest in living. Wishing I was sick, so I’d have an excuse to stay there.

Forever.

And ever.

Maybe, just maybe, all I need is a friend like Ferris to show me my best day ever.

In the movie, Cameron experiences growth and change. He’s ready to grab life by the balls.

This. This is what I need.

And that song—I Googled the museum scene, because that song has been haunting me ever since. Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want.

For the last year, this has been my theme. Yet, I still cannot get what I want when I don’t know what I want.

What do I want?

Until I know, I will never obtain that drive to get it.

What do I want?

I am not going to sit on my ass as the events that affect me unfold to determine the course of my life.

What i'm listening to:

Please, Please, Please Let ...
The Dream Academy
Ferris Bueller's Day Off