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To keep my dream alive and stimulate my creativity, I must act out the role of being a contractor. This is a fictional and sometimes real character; I have created in the ongoing story of my life. This act has short-term therapeutic advantages on my psyche as well as giving a pulse to my money meter, commonly known as my wallet. There are some great things my contractor character does for me, he gets out in the fresh air and has all the freedoms not experienced by a nine-to-five character. He gets to paint, draw, play with power tools and build things, all while getting paid.

When I start a project I mean, he starts we have great intentions; a great plan, a realistic timetable; all culminating in greatness, grandeur and gold. Does this sound familiar to anyone? I didn't think so. When he straps on my boots, I have not decided if I'm walking towards my dream or away from my writing. I find myself feeling betrayed by my characters actions. Am I, fulfilling a financial need or walking away from my obligation as a pen worker? Working man vs. wordsmith, both have merit and yet one gives me guilt and pleasure at the same time. Are these boots walking for my future or from my future?

I feel that, your past influences your present and helps create your future. I also think that your surroundings plus the way you feel about your self, and the way you look, as well as the way you interact with other people, has an important bearing on what you'll make, from what you have been given.
When my main character puts on his working clothes, bottomed off with his boots, he becomes a different person. I strongly believe that you are subject to your surroundings. I found this to be true when people are in large loud environments; they have tendencies to become largely loud. In reverse the same individuals surrounded by the silence and solitude of an expansive library will act in turn. I do not believe that this is the nurture vs. nature debate masked as an excuse why I am unable to write with my boots on.

To me, my construction character and my writing alter ego do not dwell in the same place at the same time. My drinking establishments are different when Im wearing my boots, than they are, with a pen in my hand and a story in my heart. Even though these two very special characters of mine resonate for me and share the same body and share the same experiences typically, they cannot coexist in the same room.

My fear is, I believe there will become the time, in this characters life, where their roles will be reversed. When my daily grind will be writing and my boots will take me away from what I have worked so hard to get.