The other day I thought of throwing everything away and moving. Without that whole "be both patient and proactive so the right time comes" frame of mind I've adopted.
I could just work at a coffeeshop, write a novel - or four - and ride around the city on my bike.
Then I wondered what I'd do for a coffeebreak when working at a coffeeshop. As I looked out the window, I also thought of how pissed off I'd get trying to navigate puddles and train tracks on my bike. And how many times I'd fall.
I suddenly felt better.
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