it's been one week...

 This past week has been one for the books. I finished my full-time job to pursue, a full-time career as a writer. I'm frightened, nervous, and more than a little scared. I keep finding myself nodding off to sleep just to try and stop thinking about the upcoming events. The people that I leave behind at that restaurant are some very important people. Not only have they supported my writing, they also showed me a lot of Love, and respect as their manager. As always I hope for the best for all of them. I hope they all have the opportunity such as I have to follow their dreams. I realize that it isn't pressure that is on me from people, it's hope. They've all wished me the best and hope that I can achieve a certain amount of success. Enough to house them all to a party at my Malibu mansion, next door to Justin Bieber. We had a shindig on Sunday in which way too much Guinness was ingested, but it was a wonderful event. My drunken words, boob-gazing and off tune singing will most likely be forgotten, except for from my wife who was sober. Poor girl. She told me that while passed out on the couch, I grinned from ear to ear like a school boy.

 The impact of this change has penetrated my subconscious as well. Last night I had the greatest restaurant dream of all time. It's notorious in the serving industry to have nightmares in which you are serving a 14 table section of constant complainers, and people wanting refills, while the kitchen is through a Forrest, and you can never stop being sat. It happens all through the night and when you finally wake up, you're exhausted, and probably have to go to work. Last nights dream started the same as always. I had a big section, three parties, new menu, triple sat, etc. As the first table started to give me attitude, I snickered(in the dream!!) and told them I didn't care. I told them it was my last shift, and then I walked away. Everyone was "disappointed" and I honest to God didn't care. It was some sort of cleansing, and I've stopped stalking that bitch that yelled at me two Sundays ago. I'm getting to old to actually shit on someones lawn, and I shouldn't have promised to.

 When I was a young lad, I used to do prep at the Keg in Maple Ridge and I was the youngest person back there. I was surrounded by mid-thirties prep cooks that exhausted the classic rock hour on 99.3 TheFox radio station. The one lady use to sit there and laugh while I talked nonstop about absolutely nothing. She said to me that I should be a story teller, or something "on TV" It always stuck with me. Here was this woman, who knew nothing about me personally, telling me that she thought I could succeed. I know it sounds a little self-absorbed, but I'm feeling a little low. I'm trying to feed off the confidence that others have in me. And it's not like me to not think highly of my ability. I'm usually the first person to want to hear my own voice.(it's very soothing....it's why I deliberately talk in my sleep) Granted I have a few days in my car to get up the confidence to believe in myself.

Last night was a very difficult time though. I laid in bed with a kid under each arm and thought about the 52 days I'm going to be without thems. That's a lot. I know, I know....people do it all the time. People go off to war, or jail, or jobs that keep them away from their families and they get through. It's just never happened to me before. As Alex grabbed my hand with his little fingers and brought me to his bed for sleep time, I welled up with tears. I mean Elizabeth can talk to me, tell me how she feels, but he just wants crackers and Dora the Explorer. I'll miss his little words, and goofball behaviour. He's going to be growing, and learning, and developing...I just have to believe that I'm creating a job(and hopefully a paycheck) that provides him with a better life. I have to truly believe that the real reason for all of this is for these two. That one day they can have the kind of nonsense reality show based off their fathers success\failure. As Tracey Jordan once said, "I just want to make enough money so that my kids don't have to go to school"

 All jokes aside, this is my final week in Ontario for a while. I gotta nothin to pack, I'm scared and have been breathing into a paper bag all morning. The next two months may produce a shit-load of emotional blogs, but I will continue, and I hope that you'll enjoy my journey. Now I gotta go lay down...