(Part 1 of a two-part series. I’m warning you, the ending is a cliffhanger!)

In Dream Big or Go Home, I talk about following my dreams, and never losing sight of doing the things I love.

Well folks, I feel like I’ve left you all in suspense long enough, so I’ll give you the scoop on what’s going on.

It all began with a dream. Not one of those dreams you have at night, or a fuzzy daydream to escape from reality. More like a future projection of where I want to be, an ambition, an aspiration. You know, a dream. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I Hate My Job

It’s May 2010, and I’m upset. I just got home from my marketing job, where I got told off by the boss for doing some work that was, in his mind, unsatisfactory. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite explain what he wanted, or how to fix the problem, or which direction he wanted me to move in. He just made it known that he was displeased, and in a very patronizing way, told me I was incompetent. So, I’m home, I do bad work, and I don’t know how to fix it. FUCK!

Luckily for me, I live in a great apartment, have awesome friends, and am dating the sexiest woman I have ever seen. She’s supportive, and fun, and is soon to move to away when she graduates. The positive energy and love we share is sadly marred by the fact that eventually, we’re going to break up, and it’s going to suck.

But that’s neither here nor there. My problem at hand is that I hate my job. I am reluctant to wake up in the morning and go to work. At my desk, every phonecall and email brings with it a feeling of dread, because I’m afraid it’s my boss about to tell me I fucked up. There is no satisfaction from a job well done, and I don’t get any recognition. All my ideas suck, because everyone around me has more power than I do, and are convinced they know how to do things best, regardless of the fact that none of them know the slightest thing about communications (my major), PR, advertising, or marketing.

Sigh. What to do?

Well, after lots of self-examination, I decide to escape from this hellhole and quit. I won’t have any income, but at least I won’t hate myself.

I still remember walking into my boss’s office the next day, full of dread. I remember sitting down, and feeling awkward, and ill at ease, like I always felt in his presence. I remember him looking at me for a second, then looking back at his computer screen, and complaining about the number of emails he got. Not good memories.

I also remember pulling myself together, and telling him I quit. I remember turning a bright red color, like I was ashamed of myself. I remember the look on his face too, an odd mix of patronization and bewilderment. Most of all, I remember walking back to my desk, grinning from ear to ear, with a huge feeling of release! Oh, and telling my buddy what just happened.

I Don’t Have a Job

It’s July 2010. I’m at home, relaxing. I no longer have a job, which is awesome. I no longer have a girlfriend, which sucks. I still have my great apartment, so I guess I’m in a neutral space overall.

The future is open. It’s full of possibilites, ripe with opportunities, like a tender fruit just waiting to be plucked from the open hands of the universe.

This isn’t a good thing. There are too many possibilities available. I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, even though I’m 26. I’m worried about failing at whatever it is I want to be.

I am afraid. And there’s nothing I can do about it.

So I make a choice, right then and there, to become a writer. “This is my calling”, I think, “and I’m going to follow it through to the very awesome end.”

Unfortunately, I discover over the next couple of months that it’s harder than it looks to be a writer.

I Pursue Other Interests

It’s August 2010. I read a lot, and watch TV. I start working on a novel, and it’s super mediocre. I fool around with web design. I practice Tekken 6:BR for a few weeks, go on a road trip to Toronto in September, and become the Canadian Champ at the game. I am exultant.

However, I am still not a writer. I apply for scriptwriting, copywriting, blogging, and any kind of writing job I can find that pays more than peanuts. I do not get them. In the meantime, I do some web design contracts to make some quick cash, and make ends meet. But my credit card debt is slowly rising, and my personal satisfaction is plummeting. I doubt my resolve for a little bit. After all, it’s been a year since I got my Master’s, yet I have nothing to show for it.

But I don’t regret my decision to quit.

So I keep pushing forwards, and hold onto my dream, while trying other things.

Enter the Game.

I Meet Ladies

It’s October 2010. After reading The Game by Neil Strauss, I try to figure out how to pick up women using the strategies he outlines. I’m terrible at it, and get rejected constantly. I am not doing so well, but I’m having fun. I meet a few guys that are my support group, my wingmen, and soon, my brothers.

I decide to pursue this properly, and take a bunch of my savings out to pay for a weekend workshop with Mystery, a master pick up artist, and the first man to refine a proper method for attracting women.

I am enthralled by what I learn from him. I come back to Montreal, and follow his training instructions to the letter. I go out 4 nights a week, for 6 weeks, and meet over 700 women. I begin to succeed, and for the first time since getting my Master’s, don’t feel like a failure.

My success begins to leak into the rest of my life. I start gaining momentum, and believing in myself.

All of a sudden, it’s December, and I apply for a job at a film and tv production company. It’s a CMPA internship, where I will get paid a full salary by the Canadian Media Production Association to work in an industry that’s hard to break into. My contract will last until June, but I’ll worry about that later.

For now, I’m going to enjoy this job, and use this success to propel me forwards.

Oh, and I’m going to start to write.

Continue to Part 2

1 comment add your comment

  1. Dude… You’re such a cool guy, and in many ways, an inspiration to me.

    So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

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