It’s hard to get out of bed every morning because my feet are in New York, my head’s on my pillow, but my heart’s a million miles away. I’ve been having dreams, lately. Large, vivid, reoccurring dreams. Dreams of travelling for work on a TV show that I write for. I spend half of my year in the states, particularly New York in my downtime and California for events and such. But my team and I, our show is in London. And so it’s my second home and where I spend the remainder of my year. But between seasons, I can take a break and either go home to New York to relax and unwind in an apartment that I share with one of my friends that lives here (so as to make sure I can still afford the rent and so that the place is cared for even while I’m away) or I can go visit places. I’ve been having these dreams for quite some time, now. But in the few that have happened this past week, I’ve been spending a lot of time in Venice, and it’s beautiful… and romantic. I’m not going to lie, in my dreams, I don’t often travel alone, but it does happen on occasion. And when I wake up from the solo trips, I find that I actually do enjoy the few unconscious travels alone. These dreams have been happening for so long, but for some reason, they’re getting vivider and vivider (is “vivider” even a word? Gah, that’s so awkward-sounding) stronger, longer, and more realistic. It’s come to the point where my apartment and flat are both fully furnished and there’s just so much detail because it keeps growing exponentially every night. When I wake up, I find myself extremely excited, yet just as disappointed. I don’t want to get out of bed because that is not my reality- nor is it likely to be. The only time I want to get out of bed is for Wednesday mornings for my film class because, lately, it’s the only thing that brings me one step closer to making this happen. Well, Wednesdays and any day that my dad isn’t home, but I am. I’ve recently discovered that my creativity peaks when he’s not around. My guess is because I’m free to do whatever I want without being judged, annoyed, or snarked at when he’s nowhere near me. So that gives me time to work on not only my stories and scripts, but my music as well. I want to do it all, but I’ve picked the most unrealistic things to pursue. But the biggest problem is that I love both so much that I have absolutely no idea what I will do if I ever have to give one (or god forbid both) up to get a “real job” to support myself.
