Originally published on 365 Attempts [at Life].
And then there are the days when you get it.
The days where all the other days, the ones you spent rewriting the same paragraph for 6 hours, or editing the same clip or repeating the same line 48 different ways, suddenly have currency. The days when every rejection, especially from that one guy, adds up to something. Even the time you got into the bathtub with your clothes on and cried like a 3-year old because you suck, you will never make this happen, you are deluded for even thinking you could try. Yes, you are a little bit dramatic and maybe just the tiniest bit pessimistic, but you’re working on that.
Because then there are the days when you don’t think enviously about the life you could have had. The life you almost did have, before you made the leap – the life where you own an It Bag and take cabs everywhere and buy $200 jeans on the way home from work. You don’t think about the 5-star vacations you could have taken or what your bathroom would look like renovated or the many uses you could have had for a health benefits package. Because suddenly, it’s worth it. Something you made, something that came from your heart and your guts and your blood, becomes a little bit more real. Something that you birthed into existence starts to take shape and form, and people appear to help you shape and form it. And you think, oh my god. You think, this might actually happen. This could happen. I could make a life out of just being me.
And you eat bad French food, and you go to sleep. And you wake up to possibility.