Writing about one’s personal life is not as easy as it seems, especially when the would be title of your post is “How I screwed up my life”
It gives you that strange feeling you get when you go to the doctor and the nurse asks you to take off your clothes and put on the funny gown that leaves your bare ass hanging out.
It is not a pleasant feeling but you know you have to do it if you want to feel better.
I was driving this morning and the traffic was just horrific. I thought to myself “I’ve never seen it this bad and it is getting worse every year” and then it hit me:
Nothing is as good as it used to be.
The prices of houses, the taxes, the pollution, the congestion, the infrastructure crumbling. The city is slowly falling apart.
Los Angeles used to be a terrific city to live in but that has attracted more and more people and now we are losing what was making this place so attractive in the first place. The city is falling victim to its own success.
So let’s go back to my story.
After finishing my six month training at ITT I was ready to get a job, get off welfare and do what I planed to do when I defected.
Be an American!
There was a tiny problem though; I couldn’t get past the job interview stage.
For the first time in thirteen month I had a shadow of doubt in my soul.
I was doing something wrong and I did not know what.
A very good friend of mine asked me one day: “Do you really want to get a job?”
Of course I wanted a job, a real life, a future. I wasn’t planning to spend the rest of my life on welfare.
“So then, - she said to me – you have to get a hair cut, trim your beard, get yourself into a white shirt, a tie and a two piece suit.”
(You see at that time I was looking like Che Guevara dressed up for a disco night club :)
I did not understand what my looks had to do with my job interview but I was getting pretty desperate so I transformed myself into a businessman look alike and bingo!
The first job interview I got my first solid offer.
I sometimes wonder how my life would have been if I didn’t make that first compromise.
But that it is pretty much academic now. I took the compromise, I cut my hair and as the mythical Samson with my hair I lost some of my magic.
The reward was an amazing job in the entertainment industry, with an excellent salary and a wide open opportunity for growth and advancement.
I thought that my happiness would soar at this point but instead I found myself slipping down on a slope of fatigue, stress and depression.
Some how I have replaced my dreams with a routine: Make more money, buy more things, pay more bills.
Some how I was making more and more compromises in every aspect of my life, until life itself had become pointless.
My belly was getting fat but my soul was getting lost.
I was feeling like one of those guinea pigs in the round running wheel, running faster and faster but with no finish line insight, with no big price to win, with no victory celebration, joust running in circles.
Success for me was coming at a higher price than I expected.
So I wonder if success always comes at a price.
I wonder if other people had to compromise in their lives like I did.
Am I alone in screwing up my life or did some of you out there have a similar story?