….and hopefully I will soon be quitting my job.
But I am scared, I am. About money. About not being able to do what I think/hope I’ll be able to do.
I’ll need to do quite a bit of translating to earn enough money.
I want this though. I don’t want a boss. I don’t want working hours. I want to be able to translate at three in the morning if I want to.
My tendonitis has been acting out lately, which is scary. If I’m a freelancer I wont be able to pay for a physiotherapist. I’ll just have to deal with it though. I’m tired of being scared. I need to start my new life. Or no, that’s not what I mean. What I mean is that I want more progress. I’ve already come far this year. My economy is better, I’ve been working, I’ve met a pianist, I’ve been taking singing lessons, I’ve found freelance work. But it’s not finished yet. I still lack a writing routine. I still don’t have a piano. I’m still melancholic. Maybe the latter will never change.
I love translating. I love words. I love writing. I love the keyboard of my mac. I love getting up to get another tea. I love taking my shower in the afternoon. I love my dictionary. I love being at home. At least today.
I’m not saying this will make me happy. Nothing outside of myself can make me happy. Happiness is a fleeting feeling, a momentary high. I just want my emotional life to be more stable. I want it for me, and the one I love. I want to make the best of things.
I’ve been getting ‘messages from above’. When song lyrics fall into my head, it feels like they come from above. I don’t know why. I love having that kind of week, when writing just comes easy. I cherish those moments.
I’ve just seen a very good movie, and I go to bed lighthearted.