If you’ve known me more than a minute, you know I’ve experienced day jobs a very specific way. I thought it was simpler than it was: I thought no matter the job I would deep-down hate it because it wasn’t singing or acting or writing. I basically feel (still present-tense) no job could fully replace my wish to be an artist. I don’t even care if I’m a no-name in
One of my oldest posts on the blog is not very good, so don’t go look for it, but it’s about my life-long rebellion toward the day job and the question of whether or not a day job exists in which I could be happy. Yes, Virginia, a day job like that exists, my commenter responded to the post. And this post is me, admitting that person had a point.