dittoWhen someone confesses something, it's usually done in a passionate way - a cathartic cry to calm whatever cognitive dissonance echoes inside them. They let it all out. These days, I haven't written much of anything. And I could say something to myself like, "Oh, well there's nothing much to write about these days anyway." But that'd be a lie. My life is anything but boring.
So why then haven't I "been to confession"?

I've been en garde these days. Saving face. And spending sanity.
I'm coming back to the reason why I started this whole thing: Taking off this damn mask!

A couple weeks ago, I was talking to an old friend from high school. We were talking about careers and having a family of our own someday (not me and her), and she challenged me saying something along the lines of "Do you really expect to support your wife and kid(s) on an EMT's salary?"
That bothered me. What "wife and kids"? Who the hell was she to challenge my future as a street-savvy savior? Still, that got to me. It made me think about looking for a something with better money.
Passionate versus Practical.

I've always been a person that moves with emotion. My fortè and foible. But this time, something else is moving me - my brain. And like Dorothy's straw-stuffed sidekick, I had it the whole time.

I'm still waiting for the New York State EMT certificate to come in. It's been about seven weeks since I took the exam, and still nothing. I checked in with a friend from class, and he still hasn't received his certificate. Worried? Not really - but more like antsy in my pantsy. I mean where the hell is this thing?
Bills are stacking up like jenga blocks. I'm playing hide and seek with debt-collectors. I still need to pay off student loans. And, I have to find my own place. Oh, and I can't forget about that speeding ticket I got four months ago (damn, the ONE TIME I tried testing out "the system"). With a little more foresight, I could've avoided this, but I didn't. And since I can't exactly answer my calling without my M.I.A. NYS EMT C-E-R-T-I-F-I-C-A-T-E, I've been searching for a job. Okay, maybe not "searching" per se - but more like begging. And I'm begging in business. Some people say I should try my hand in marketing, so I figure why the hell not? If I can sell myself with my charisma, why can't I sell a product, right?
So I've been interviewing, mostly with Japanese companies that have found my resumè online. It's been going pretty well for the most part. And if I get a call tomorrow, then I'll finally have something, that or I'll have to keep jumping through hoops to land a job
... or not.

Beggars can't be choosers, right? And I have to start somewhere.
But I'm still on fire to be an EMT. I want those glory-stories to be my own. And once that certificate comes through, I'll probably use my spare time moonlighting for hospital and FDNY ambulances. Why? Because it's where I want to be. And If where I want to be lines up with where the world needs some one to be, then that's where I'm supposed to be.

Easy? Nope. not at all. But "easy" is a word that left my dictionary right around the ninth grade. And if this is something I really want to do, I should sacrifice a piece of myself to get there and do it.

My life's not easy. It's hard. It's painful. It's tangled and messy. But that's what makes it my own.
And in the end, I have faith that it will work out.

That much I confess...