I smelled nice yesterday. I think I always do, but yesterday, I put in extra, extra effort. I used shower gel, I used my favourite Fa soap, I used five different scents, as in I really put in the effort. See, I was chasing my dream, and you cannot afford to chase your dream smelling, or looking, dodgy. That’s probably why I spent over an hour pressing my clothes with the iron on the searing-hot setting, and why my shoes looked like a kid’s face on his first day of school, shiny as shiny has ever been.
I was chasing my dream, and it ran from me. Bolted. Like a race horse from a stable whose lock was faulty. I saw it running, and it run fast, like I hadn’t spent all that time preparing from it, and it was worried I had an aura of sweat and bad oral hygiene. The e-mail that informed me to chase another dream because this one wasn’t for me got to me at about noon, short and to the point. Like a well-done execution. No blood, no prolonged waiting, no hope of clemency, just a clean cut and on to the next one.
I realized yesterday, after the dream was dead on arrival, how hard it is to take your own advice, made me appreciate all the good things that I have going on. You have a happy, healthy relationship? It’s a lot easier to tell your single friends to be patient, and that their soul mate is out there somewhere and that it won’t be long. Employed and with a salary? It’s natural to tell someone to keep sending those c.vs and not to give up hope, even when they’ve gone months, or even years without as much as an interview. Have a loving family that is all alive and close to you? It’s not hard to tell someone who has strife in their family, or who has lost part of theirs, to hold on and be strong, and all those nice things that sound supportive to you but sound like bullshit and pretentiousness to the person they are intended for.
Later as I got home, I still smelled nice, (Rather I think I did. My confidence had taken a beating and my judgment had been impaired at this point), and I figured I’d cook rice and stew because it was Tuesday, (I have a menu that I adhere to, on the days that I am not too tired). I had talked to the girl I know hope will be my girlfriend, (the rejection email had messed me up a lot more than I let on), and she has a way of calling me when I least expect it, or when I tell her that I had a shitty day, and hours later when we hang up, I forget what it was I thought was making my day shitty. I love that girl. She’s amazing, and I’d use ten different scents if I knew I was going to see her.
I honestly don’t know what the point of this post is, I just thought I’d say that it’s morning and I feel a whole lot better, the rejection still sucks (I wore my favourite socks even, and I still didn’t get a look in), but I’ve decided that I won’t let it affect my overall dream. That this is just a blip on the radar. A slip. I was laughing with my friend about it yesterday, she’s Ugandan and I rarely get to see her, she’s so smart though and she always says things that make sense. We talked about Thomas Edison, and how he didn’t “fail 10,000 times but successfully found 10,000 ways which didn’t work”, thankfully I still have 9,999 opportunities to chase.
I applied for an editorial position and it didn’t go as planned, telling people’s stories is what my hear beats for, and on way or the other, I’ll do that for a living, and I’ll be good at it. I’ll be broke for a while, maybe even ages, I’ll question why I risked it all for something that could fail spectacularly, but in the end, it’ll be worth every sacrifice. I won’t change my deodorant, neither will I dispose of my obviously not-so-lucky socks, heck I’ll keep wearing them to dream chasing opportunities.
You know, I carried the laptop to work, so it’s no longer morning, it’s 7:23 p.m and it’s starting to get chilly, and the sky is a deep shade of blue, just before the stars come out to play. I met a famous writer outside work today, and I told him how I only buy the newspaper to read his two-page articles. We talked for about twenty minutes, and I actually made conversation with him. I even threw in a few words, you know how someone struggles to find an appropriate word, and you suggest one, and they actually use it? I felt so proud, and in the end when he had to leave, he asked for my name, and he said he’d pass by and we’d converse some more. That was so amazing for me, I love meeting intelligent people and talking to them, especially if they are writers as well.
I don’t know what is running away from you, or what just run away from you, or what looks like it’s definitely going to run from you. What I know is that what’s yours doesn’t run away from you. My dream is out there waiting for me, and I’ll have a lot of false starts, seeing this dream-chasing is more groping in the dark than anything else. I’ll be ready for it though, even if that day I won’t have five scents on me, or my shirt will be a little creased, but I’ll be ready. And I’ll tell you about it.