I had lots of excitement when I was young. We moved around every two years. I was bullied. A lot. I change schools. I changed subjects. I met new people. Made new friends.
Now that I'm all "grown up" life appears to have slowed down some. I'm not really meeting that many new people. Not that I particularly want to. I have found that people, in general, annoy me. Present company excluded, of course.
I wake up. I get ready. I go to work. I go to training. I come home. I sleep. Five days a week (unless it's Friday. There isn't training Fridays), every week of the year. Weekends follow a similar pattern. Saturday: wake up, eat breakfast, go to Lion Dance, teach Kung Fu, go home. Sunday: sleep.
Luckily, I have an imagination into which I regularly escape. In there, all sorts of adventures are happening - and most of it is terribly exciting. You know, as exciting as wars and hardship can be. Of course, if I was living the life I imagine, I'd want to slow the pace a little. I'd probably want the quiet, thoroughly unexciting life I lead now. I just can't win!
I am still hoping for some excitement in my real life. Like an email from an agent or publisher that says:
'Loved it. Sending the contract today.'
Or some such.
That would be so exciting, I might drop dead of a heart attack. Now that would be ironic!
Until then, I'm plugging away at editing and forever hoping that I might yet be a published author. Le sigh.
Speaking of editing, I must get cracking. Happy Thursday everyone!