Just who, exactly, do you think YOU are.

It's not a question.

Well, I guess it is, but I don't care what the answer is, so guess we'll just call it a rhetorical question. I have a feeling I won't be using my "?" for a while, because I am pretty much totally fucking fed up with other people's opinions about my dream being realized in the not-so-distant, oh-shit-am-I-really-doing-this future.

After the debacle last night, and the post I wrote at about 3am, I went back to bed.

I tossed.

I turned.

I may have cried a little.

I got mad - first at Mr. Headuphisass, then at myself.

I got scared - scared that I would fail. Scared that I might never be able to do this. Scared that someone else would do it first.

And then I got so damn tired from being awake thinking about it all, that I dozed off with my latest hobby - making lists in my head of things I need to do.

Because you know what, I am not going to sit here and try to predict the future. I don't know if I will succeed or fail. None of us do, really. People are losing their homes right and left, and their jobs, and families are falling apart, and none of that was necessarily something that could be predicted.

So why couldn't wild success also be possible. Or even just medium-sized success. Frankly, if I don't go bankrupt I'll feel successful. My bar is very low at this point.

Here's what I know I will finally have. The chance to do something my way. To succeed or fail on my own terms. Because when I do this, it will be all me. No one to blame but myself if things go sour. Which they won't, Mr. Headupyourass.