I just realized the reason I choose to read novels: the other life. The life of the heroes that I would like to have or even avoid. Since July 2017 until this very month, I had read very few of them, because you know I prefered to read about self- development. I had such hanger to shape myself in the best posible professional, after I started my -what so called- career. I had been so focused on my -so small- goal of becoming a manager at some point (by title along with the behaviour), that I had no time to sunk in other realities or even losing time...
Currently, after changing two jobs in a month (will talk about it another time- nothing bad), I would love to say I am finally settled. Unfortunatelly, I cannot say that. This new job is so different of what I had been used to: the people here are way friendlier, the job is complicated and has real challenges (and not what they used to call challenge in a previous job the act of pressing extra buttons or talking with foreighners from Asia), I need to study and learn new things really every day and cross my own limits. My mind gets so tired sometimes with everything that suddenly I felt the need to throw away (ok, just put aside) all the books I was reading as I realized, opening the app (Scribed) and seeing them standing there, was making me feel fed up already. But I love books, so I had to do something for the 45 minutes I pass in the public transport. Hence, novels...
And here come the dreams! Connected with the books, I keep seeing dreams that make me feel weird, upset or even depressed for a moment. Because they show a life I don't lead and in the dream I am happy. I am the star of everything, when in reality I have an ordinary and boring life. Sometimes, I try to decide whether I hate work itself or waking up early (how much this has changed lately... ) . So, there is no other solution rather than losing myself into an alternative reality, which gives me wild ideas of chasing billionaires (not happening- I have morals).
However, some dreams are cool, man...
Currently, after changing two jobs in a month (will talk about it another time- nothing bad), I would love to say I am finally settled. Unfortunatelly, I cannot say that. This new job is so different of what I had been used to: the people here are way friendlier, the job is complicated and has real challenges (and not what they used to call challenge in a previous job the act of pressing extra buttons or talking with foreighners from Asia), I need to study and learn new things really every day and cross my own limits. My mind gets so tired sometimes with everything that suddenly I felt the need to throw away (ok, just put aside) all the books I was reading as I realized, opening the app (Scribed) and seeing them standing there, was making me feel fed up already. But I love books, so I had to do something for the 45 minutes I pass in the public transport. Hence, novels...
And here come the dreams! Connected with the books, I keep seeing dreams that make me feel weird, upset or even depressed for a moment. Because they show a life I don't lead and in the dream I am happy. I am the star of everything, when in reality I have an ordinary and boring life. Sometimes, I try to decide whether I hate work itself or waking up early (how much this has changed lately... ) . So, there is no other solution rather than losing myself into an alternative reality, which gives me wild ideas of chasing billionaires (not happening- I have morals).
However, some dreams are cool, man...
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