one day or day one

(6 minute read)

It’s funny how things can resonate with you.

You may have heard it a million times before. Then suddenly, something just clicks.

‘One day or day one’ did just that.

Has that ever happened to you? You just get tired of your own excuses?

You wake up and wonder, how did I get here?

Or maybe it’s a slow drip- a creeping feeling, like things aren’t quite right, the alignments off, but it’s no where near a train wreck so it’s easy to ignore.

That’s me.

I love a lot about my life. I am grateful for all of it. Really.

“…But-”

Can you say that too?

“I love my life and I’m grateful for so so much…BUT…”

There's just something not quite right. Not quite me. Not quite what I envisioned.

This is not meant to be confused with perfection. Fuck that. No no no.

This is about that little voice in the way back of your head that is telling you- maybe you were meant for more.

Not like fame or fortune and power. (Or sure, if that’s your thing)

There is something you always wanted to be

or do

or create

or learn

or say

or ask.

I think one of three things will happen:

One: (simultaneously the hardest and the easiest) You listen to that voice and you just do it.

Two: You ignore it until you burst. The louder the voice has been will be directly related to the destruction this explosion leaves in its wake.

Three: (this is, in my opinion, the most tragic): the little voice goes away completely. Maybe forever.

For me, that little voice has been, is and always will be: writing.

So here we are.

Welcome to my Day One.

Since I was a little kid I’ve wanted to be a writer.

I wrote silly stories and poems and I always had a journal.

I got my bachelors in English, journalism and film.

I traveled, I ate, I drank. I wanted to be a travel food writer.

I wrote for some local publications, traveled, ate & drank some more and then I got a job managing a restaurant.

The plan was to learn a whole new side of the food & wine world to fuel my dream of being a food & wine writer.

That was 13 years ago.

Thirteen freakin years ago! What. The. Fuck.

Now- I did end up buying said restaurant and have been a tad busy owning and operating that beast for the last decade. I am proud of the work we do and how we do it. Really proud. More on that later. And I did write a few things and had a few things written about me.

But…

That voice is still there.

So here I am writing about writing which I suppose is fitting.

It might not be good and it won’t make me any money and maybe no one will even read it.

You know what? It doesn’t matter.

Because this is simply just what I am meant to do. Write.