My so-called life

I often daydream about what it would be like to live a normal life...9-5 job in a place with cubicles, white picket fences, dinners at home, being generally unaware of crime and human nature, etc etc etc.  Would I be happy?  Would I be content?  Would I enjoy life?  

Its a rhetorical question, because I don't think I'll ever have that "normal life".  Some days that makes me very very sad.  I want to keep tragedy and knowledge far far away from my being.  I want a schedule and a social life and a general consistency that I can count on.  

But, really?  That wouldn't be any kind of life for me.  People tell me on an almost weekly basis that "I couldn't do your job".  I don't think its my job per se.  I think its all the benefits and backlash that go with it.  Yes, I got up at 4am this morning.  BUT, I have a friend who is ALSO up at 4am, and who I chatted with for 45 minutes because we could and we were both up.  How many "normal" people have that?  Yes, my coworker was murdered just because of the entity that he represented, BUT, I felt the immense support of the community and of my work family, and I still receive kind words from strangers when they see me wearing Tony's name.  

You take the good with the bad.  At least you learn to.

Part of this spiel stems from this week.  Its been a rough couple of days back.  Part of this also came to mind because as I was reviewing my bad day just now and looking for something, ANYTHING, positive, I realized my day actually started out great - talking with a friend at 4am - and I didn't even realize it.  When I really needed to talk to someone, someone was there.  

So, desk job?  No.  Not for me.  Not anymore.  

Ahhh...someone who doesn't judge.  And that's a shadow, not a black eye.

If you can't fly, then run,

If you can't run, then walk,

If you can't walk, then crawl,

But whatever you do,

You have to keep moving forward.

~ MLK Jr