Your’re Writing a Book? Here’s the prologue

Hi – I don’t know how you found this, but thank you for reading. I’m in the process of writing a book. I don’t know the name, I don’t know when it will be released, but it is being written. I recently joined the Wifi Money Machine course a few weeks ago started by @AJA_Cortes and @joserosado which got me excited for creating content. What’s the best to start? Just create something, so here’s something. Thanks.

 


Prologue

It’s 5:02 in the morning and I just decided I had to write book. My son has kicked me in the head at least five times throughout the night. He’s four years old.

Why are you sleeping with your four old? That’s doesn’t matter at the moment but it is part of the journey.

I’m writing this book out of desperation. I need to feel something good and I need get some things off my chest.

Every day I wake up with dread. My feet hurt because I’m dehydrated. I’m currently nursing some kind of muscle tear in my lower abdominal/groin area from doing Bulgarian split squats trying to get in better shape for ski season.

The reason I mention the injury is because I have to be careful how I sit up and move because I don’t want to aggravate it and make it worse. 

Old man injuries.

My tooth hurts. Why? Because being the coward I am(was?), prior to a dental reckoning in 2018, the last time I had gone to the dentist was 1989. I still remember it was after boys basketball practice and I was scared, super scared of having my tooth pulled. It was a wonky baby tooth that didn’t fall out but was being bullied out by a grown up tooth. 

I was 12 years old.

Turns out, after not going to the dentist in for more years than Kurt Cobain was alive, a few problems needed to be addressed. 

It would be easy for me to blame my parents for not being a little more on top of my dental hygiene. They were busy, working multiple jobs, taking care of a house and property that were way too big, all to give us a better life than they had. Blaming your parents is lazy and cliche.

We’re getting ahead of ourselves, back to the tooth.

In the summer of 2018, I had a serendipitous sample of some delicious, gluten-free granola at Costco. This lead to an almost nightly pattern of eating Greek yogurt with berries and said granola as an after dinner treat.

Well that sounds lovely, Brian. Oh, it was. 

The problem was there was black, gaping orifice in my molar where said delicious granola would get trapped!

After multiple instances where I had to pry this gluten-free goodness from my dying tooth, I said “this is enough!” I found a dentist on the internet, something that didn’t exist the last time I went to the dentist, and made an appointment. After several trips, many thousands of dollars, and the now forever implanted in my nostrils odor of my dying tooth being burned and cut out via a root-canal, I now have a lovely, slightly-whiter-than-my-other teeth crown in its place.

So, what’s the problem now?

This past summer I was doing dead lifts in my basement. I added some extra weight and needed a little something extra to finish my set, so I chomped down hard on the gum I was chewing.

Permanent glue, my ass.

That was over 4 months ago and I still haven’t gotten it fixed, because I don’t have any time.

Which goes back to the waking up with dread and having to write this book. 

“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation, and go to the grave with the song still in them.” – Henry David Thoreau

I think about this quote a lot, but I’m done living in quiet desperation. I’m done working a corporate job that I hate, wasting the precious moments I have of my life on this earth.

Perhaps me sleeping with my son tonight and him kicking me in the head repeatedly was metaphorical. Dad, I’m getting older every day, stop being miserable and start being a father who is happy, present and a positive role model. Thanks Benjamin, I love you.

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