Okay, it’s only taken me 40 years. Or so. But…. I finally worked it out.
I want to enjoy it.
I met a former colleague for coffee this morning, and this topic came up, because working in a certain climate right now sucks. Well, okay, I totally took over the conversation and bounced topics like a chicken on steroids, but he’s a really cool guy and he humors me. We came to the conclusion that we’re products of our time.
Actually, he said that. He’s smart, too. I should have coffee with him more often.
When I was a kid, I was always reading. My mother used to say that the house could burn down around me and I would never notice. She’s probably right, and impspawn#1 would add that trying to get my attention while I’m reading or writing is about as achievable as attempting to distract a rampaging herd of Perfectly Normal Beasts.
It never occurred to me that I could make a career out of reading if I wanted to, it was all maths/science, university, responsibility and get a real job. Well, screw that, I want to be Neil Gaiman. If you haven’t seen his University of the Arts commencement speech thingy, watch it, it’s incredibly inspirational, and I only wish someone had told me that stuff 20 years ago. (Or at least, if they did, that I had listened).
Never too late to start, though, is it?
So here I am. Writing stuff. I’ll probably get the hang of this internet thing, eventually, and then maybe, someone will even read it.