I missed my first day in three months of blogging yesterday. But I have a good excuse: I was living my life.
Nine years ago, I attended my first concert as a “guest of the band.” I set foot on a tour bus for the first time. I held an All Access laminate for the first time. I even met the guy I would much later marry for the first time.
The end of that weekend, I wrote a journal entry in my private journal entitled, “Weekend dreams are made of” and in it, I chronicled every second of every moment of the day. Fast forward to today, and as I remember that entry I have to laugh. Back then, I’d never heard the phrase, “Livin’ the dream…” in reference to the music industry, and today I hear it used in a sarcastic irony.
The last few days, I’ve been off living… living the dream I spoke of nine years ago. Living the dream of life being dictated by the music industry… its perks right along with its (unknown to me then) downfalls.
In the last few days I’ve run on little sleep, attended my first CD release party, rode a tour bus through the day and night to tag along at a live music radio show, made plans to attend the Opry, and been reminded of debts that are in collections.
Like I said, the perks and the downfalls all rolled into a few days… I wouldn’t trade any of it for anything. Not a single note, hour, or bill. It’s my life, and I love it.
Living and loving my life feeds into my career dreams of writing for a living. The more life I live, the more I have to write about. The more I live the dream, the bigger the dream becomes.
And you gotta love that.
