Four

Monday mornings are tough enough. This particular Monday morning, I was greeted with "Hey B, can you believe it? Today's your four year anniversary.

Four years. Fours year. Four. Years. Of my life. Four years of my early and mid twenties. Four years of progressively less hair, less chance of a second growth spurt, less chance of being influential in any way at a "young age", or being rich at a young age. Four years.

I was 21 when I started working here? Should I have taken those words of wisdom from a coworker when, right after college, I started working a desk job: "Hey. Get the hell outta here. What are you doing? You just finished school. You're young. No family to support, no mortgage, no car payments... nothing. You're free. You've got the rest of your life to work."

I'm at that point that I committed to four years ago where I've saved a few bucks, gotten my feet planted in the music world, and am ready to do what I want to do.