Something many don’t know about me, is that I pay for a life coach. This is one of the things that makes me a better person... every. single. day.

One lesson he’s trying to beat into my skull is to stop leaving life on the table. It’s an important lesson, and I get it. Every one of us need to not wait for life to happen, and to go out and get it.

However, this is where I find out just how uncomfortable it is to break out of my shell. I suppose shells are hard for a reason—but that gorgeous young brunette at the party isn’t going to hurt me.

Hell, the worst that could happen is she’d completely ignore me... and even that is unlikely.

Yet, in that moment... the fog settles in and I retreat into my head. I forget about being present in the room and her energy and settle in the fog of emptiness.

Why is it that my “happy place” is so bad for me... and so empty?

When I manage to escape my shell, I thrive on the great energy of who I’m talking to. I listen. I react. I even manage to bring some girls home.

Yet, in some situations, I still shut down.

Clearly, I need to keep working on it. Why am I so difficult? I’m learning that life coaches do NOT make enough money for some of us who struggle so hard to break through that shell.

However, I suppose it’s worth it—that magical moment when it finally lands with me, and I get it. That is why I’ll keep pushing...

Every. single. day.

Today, in a store, I made the comment that it had been a minute since I’ve heard this song.

The young blonde behind the counter exclaimed, “Yes! I love the old country!”

How cute... now I know how Steely Dan must have felt.

What i'm listening to:

She's in Love with the Boy
Trisha Yearwood
Trisha Yearwood

Tuesday afternoon, I unboxed my first drone. It’s pretty cool: it’s tiny, it has a camera, and I can drive it with my phone.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, I’m watching in horror as it falls from the sky... bouncing twice off the roof of my house, then the hood of my car. The drone lands in one spot, the battery in another, and one of the blades in a third.

No, it wasn’t shot down... except maybe by a splash of stupidity.

Let me explain... I’ve never gotten into remote control cars, planes, or really anything. Guess you can say they never really interested me.

The idea of aerial photography, however, fascinates me. I love the idea of hovering a drone near a subject I want a picture of and shooting... perhaps from the top of a statue, or a neon sign, or a historic building. I love the unique viewpoints.

However, considering my inexperience with remote controlling, perhaps a pricey camera drone wasn’t the best starter vehicle.

Looking back, it has occurred to me that it’s been ages since I’ve taken the time to practice and actually learn something... like driving a car or riding a bike.

Another sign I don’t take enough risks, I suppose, but I digress.

It’s time. Time to start small and practice, practice, practice. Time to take the drone to a park, learn how to hover it, learn how to hop it, and eventually, learn how to control it without having it fall out of the sky as I panic at the controls.

Realistically, I know accidents and incidents where I’ll have to cut power to it will occur... but if I can keep a level head AND know how to control it better, maybe it will be less traumatic.

I intend to get a bag full of spare blades—just in case.

Ready for the next adventure. One that will again teach me patience.