Happiness and Wanting More

I need a better quality day job.

It’s interesting how much more I’m aware of that when things begin to go my way. Sometimes, I think I could go through life without worrying too much about whether I like my job, or if I’m making enough money. I could force myself to be happy with a pay check, and enough time left over to keep working on my novel, or my website.

And then, something good happens. Something that makes me realize that my dream is still out there. And then, I’m awake and aware, and the thought of storming out in frustration and disgust seems so much more real.

Right now, I’m making progress. I’m gaining traction on the blog, I have a real, live article that I’m writing. I’m still revising my (latest) novel, but I’m happier ¬†with it and more confident than I have been in a while.

And that’s usually about where thoughts of chucking my day job and taking up some outlandish scheme set in.

I could be a street performer in New York or Chicago.

I could sell marginally raunchy games for child-free life events on Etsy.

I could be a hobo and ride the rails, and blog about it for fun and profit. I could sell little animals carved out of stolen lumps of coal.

I could be a YouTube star, and make videos for children… but for adults.

I could wash store front windows for cash in my bare feet, and go just about anywhere, as long as they’d let me have a bucket and squeegee.

I could start a band. People really do that, you know.

Or a non-profit.

Or a commune.

Am I the only one? Do other people find one bit of happiness making them want to change other things, too? Do your stop-gap choices seem all the less bearable, when you feel yourself getting closer to the things you really want?