I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore!

For those of you old enough to understand my film reference, you get that I’m referring to the amazing Patty Chayefsky and Sidney Lumet 1976 film, Network. Mind you, I was the age of 2 when the film came out, so I don’t remember it first-hand, but I did revisit this cinematic masterpiece during my college years and found it equally as poignant some 20+ years later. For those of you that can’t recall what the film is about, it deals with a television network’s cynical exploits of a deranged (former) anchor whose seemingly mad ravings and revelations get used for profit by the media and the network until his tragic downfall. Still sounds relevant today, huh?

So, why I am going on about this film and what the hell does it have to do with my being angry? Better yet, what the hell am I angry about? To the answer the first question, it’s got nothing to do with the film. I just always remembered the quote as being something really powerful, something to shout out to the world when you’ve had enough and are ready to make a stand. It’s something to say when the jig is up, the wool is no longer over your eyes, and the shit on the fan is dry and cracked.

And in regards to question number two, “what the hell am I angry at?,” the answer is simple. I’m angry at myself. Not in a beat me up, woe-is-me way kind of way, but rather in a I’m-over-this-bullshit-and-I’m-ready-to-make-a-change kind of way. Why? Because I’m almost 40 years old (I do look good for my age, at least.) and I’m sick and tired of grinding my life out day to day, doing the survival thing, living hand-to-mouth. That’s great for when your in your twenties, but at almost two decades later, it gets old.

I’m over working a million jobs, juggling projects, hustling to make ends meet, and still having to worry about the next rent payment. It’s tiring, time consuming and causes gray hair. Who needs that when there’s just so much more this life has to offer?

Yeah, I know people say that this is par for the course when you’re trying to be an artist. Screenwriter. Burlesque producer. Starving artist. Okay, great. Been there. Done that. Next.

I’ve clocked in my 10,000 Malcolm Gladwell hours. I’ve put in my time and worked my ass off. I’ve learned and grown wiser with every step of the way. And now, I’m ready to make some shit happen…for real.

This isn’t to say that I’m not unbelievable grateful for all that I’ve experienced or for all that I have. I am blessed with an abundant amount of love and joy in my life, love for my beautiful new family that I created, for the family that created me, for my friends whom I am fortunate to call family, and for this planet (my global family, if you will).  I am who I am thanks to you all.

I’m just saying that when you’ve lived a good 10 years (maybe longer) feeling like you’re on the verge of something big, you kinda want that big thing to finally happen at some point. It’s either that or give up hope…and that second part is just not an option.

So, with all that said, this is my declaration.  My proclamation of emancipation. My state of my union address. To myself. To the universe. To all of you who know or don’t know me.  From this day forward, that way of life is over. I will no longer hold space for useless struggling, working like a chicken with its head cut off, or wrenching my gut with every new bank statement. That is now the past. RIP. You are dead to me.

Today is born the new me. The soon to be 4o me. The me with the wildly fulfilling and abundantly healthy family, career and financial life. (I’m also going to throw in a fabulous new wardrobe here, because this new me has to look good too, you know.) This is the day I birth the transformed me.

And now the transformed me is  standing at the window (aka computer keyboard), nostrils a flarin’, and yelling it out for you all to hear, “Forty, bring it on cuz I’m ready!”

* PS – apologies if the profanity has offended anyone, but sometimes, ‘shit’ happens.