“invested 25 years of my life”

“it’s not fair”

These thoughts, accompanied by a dull ache (like when your braces get tightened), and then sleep.

But then it happened again. It hadn’t happened in a while. I sleep for 20 minutes, then wake up with a text message from my subconscious.

“You’re not entitled to anything.” (ur not entitld 2 n e thng)

The message—total relaxation—great sleep.

It’s all extra. If, eventually, I am in a great relationship– extra. Kind words when I’m down– extra. The fact that I’m on this planet (what are the odds all my ancestors were conceived by the previous-generation ancestors? You know, what if granddad got distracted when the phone rang and the big moment happened a few minutes later?) –extra.

I’ll get what I need. Mostly from me. Some from this person now. Some from those people later. I’ll read something inspiring. Maybe I’ll overhear something even more inspiring. It may be in song lyrics. It may be in what I think are the lyrics. (“Excuse me while I kiss this guy”)

But it won’t be directly deposited in my account for 80 hours of work. Any work I do is because I’m being me. Results may vary. And, along with all the random things that will happen, they’ll be as interesting as hell.

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