Hello friends! As some of you may have noticed, I didn’t post at all last week, except for a short blurb letting everyone know I was in Toronto, working in a writer’s room for a TV series.
Well, I’m back. It’s been a rough but overall enjoyable week. Last Sunday, in the space of 3 hours, I left behind my home, my friends, my family, my hobbies, my job and, well, pretty much everything except for my clothes, laptop, and PS3. All this in the name of my dream. Not only that, but I when I got to Toronto, most of the places I had planned to stay in had bedbugs, so I ended up living on my buddy’s couch for the first five days. I also worked 9am-8pm, so I basically had no life and no personal space in which to reflect.
It’s tricky, when you get home from a long day, to have no haven in which you can relax, and let the day’s troubles fade away.
The low point
As such, I got to the breaking point on Wednesday, when I was considering just giving up and going home. I had just finished a loooong 12-hour day, was picking up some Thai food a couple of blocks near my temporary home/couch, feeling super homesick, and just… I just missed my life, you know?
I wanted to walk into work and say “suuuup” to Jon, my coworker and tech genius. I wanted to make fun of Lanni stealing cookies, get a hug from Anisha, go for a coffee run with Julia, and get drunk with Emma. I wanted to play Street Fighter with Renato, talk shit with Etienne, pretend to learn Marvel from Roman, get excited about JF’s new hair, watch a shitty movie with Annie, say “An Ouais Gertrude” with Adam and Mat, and so many other friends that I missed. I wanted to go out with Nic, Marc, and JP, get drunk and meet new ladies.
I wanted to get a hug from my little sis, and have her tell me everything was going to be ok.
But I couldn’t, because they were all 500 kilometers away.
Life helps me out
I didn’t give up though. It’s not really in my nature to do so, and I’ve trained to persevere throughout my childhood. So I plowed forward. I thought happy thoughts, and told myself things would work out, and just really pushed myself to be more positive.
Thursday, I felt much better. I had, by this point, created a system in the writer’s room which led to me working much less, as the initial setup was done, and the supplies were ready when we needed them. Not only that, but something special happened at work which I can’t talk about yet, and it was amazing.
Friday though? That was the best day. I got home from work, and ran into Tim, the 3rd roommate where I was living, who happened to be home at the same time as me. He offered to sublet me his room for a few weeks, while he stayed at his girlfriend’s house. Boom, just like that, I had a bed. More importantly, I had a space to call my own.
I cleaned up the room, and slept like a baby all weekend. I took naps every chance I could, and regenerated enough that I went out alone on Saturday night. It was great! I met tons of crazy people at the bars I hit, then went across town at 2am to meet a friend of mine at a club. We danced, we drank, we had a great time, and ended up back at my place at 4am and played Marvel.
What the hell am I trying to say?
Just one thing:
Don’t fucking give up. If you want something enough, you do what it takes to get it. Nothing of value comes easy, and usually it’s all the more sweet when you struggle along the way. I know if had found a bed the night I arrived, I wouldn’t have appreciated my current room as much as I do (hint: I fucking love it, dust and all). I had to work really hard over the last seven days to get something really basic, and the payoff is groovy.
This is just the beginning of many great events to come, and I have faith that beautiful things are going to continue to happen to me. Oh, and you too 😀
Did you ever live though something hard, to get to something amazing? Leave a comment and tell me all about it!