I’d lined up my ducks, ready to crack ’em down. Over the last two weeks i’ve quit my job, defined what I want to do to ‘Live my dream’, made a plan, signed it in blood – never to look back again. I’d done it! I’d defined a path that made everything a-ok.
But I woke up on Monday (Day 1 of the rest of my beautiful life) and everything felt putrid, disgusting, festering.
I wasn’t sick. But I felt heavy. A headache had developed and a tiny little miner was bashing the back of my skull on the back to the left. I suddenly thought my plan was dumb and i’d made a mistake. I didn’t want to make my bed. And I wanted chocolate…mountains of chocolate. A conveyer belt of chocolate that couldn’t go fast enough.
“Darrel! Crank up the conveyer belt to 10 – the beast says we aren’t keeping up with demand”.
When I looked in the mirror – the enthusiastic face of yesterday was having a terrible hair day.