I made more today in 3 hours than I do in 9 hours at my day job. Kind of depressing, don’t you think? If i re-roofed 3 small garages a week (3 days) I would make more than I do in a full mind numbing week at my normal job. I am very thankful that I am employed and my co-workers are generally great to work with, but the office job thing just isn’t what I want to do for the rest of my life. I’m not saying that I want to go back to roofing, I’m just saying that I could be providing for my family in a job where I feel I am doing something worth while.

I know I’m rambling today, but I feel like thinking out loud. I started getting into finishing back in Calgary until the work dried up and I moved to roofing where I ultimately tore my forearm and developed tennis and golfer elbow ( the worst part being that I don’t play either sport!). Pause for laughter. No? Come on, my doctor didn’t like that joke either. I have now lost my train of thought, though I think that ran off the rails some time ago. Days like today can be very sobering and can cause me to question some choices I have made along the way. I heard the Milk Carton Kids say, “If we keep looking backwards we’ll break our necks. This ain’t no time for regrets.”

If we keep looking backwards, we’ll break our necks, this ain’t no time for regrets.

I guess I shouldn’t worry so much about the past. It can’t be changed now. That doesn’t mean that I can’t change what is happening now and get where I want to if I make some changes now. Sounds pretty damned easy, doesn’t it? Here is where it gets complicated; it isn’t that I have three kids, or rent to pay. It’s that I am terrified that I will fail. I know that anyone faced with possibly life-changing choices will risk failure and most do it in spite of it.

I don’t want to make an excuse or somehow blame my condition for not trying. I will spend hours imagining all the ways I could mess up and all the ways I could end up on the street. After all is said and done, I will stay safely where I am and grow more and more frustrated and eventually grow old and bitter and die knowing I didn’t try.


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