It takes roughly an hour to get from my house to the casino I work at, so, counting my eight-hour workday and the time I spend driving on the freeway, I’ve quite a lot of time to myself most days. Well, I mean, as a table games dealer it’s part of my job description to be around people, so it’s not like I’m alone all day. The opposite, actually. But most conversations I have with people are of the passer-by variety; there’s a decent chance I’m never going to see them again or speak to them.

In a way, those are the best conversations in the world. There is no commitment to anything beyond that specific moment in time, so it doesn’t make much sense to be anything other than what I already am. My dreams remain as simple as they were when I was 10 or 11 years old: I want to make enough money to support the lifestyle I envision for myself, I want a pretty wife and a nice house and all that fairytale love story shit.

I don’t think that’s too much of a stretch to procure.

But, what I’m really aiming for — on the same plane as what I already mentioned — is that I want people to know what I’m really about. The type of person I am. With so much time spent on the road, it’s fair that a lot of shit passes through my mind. It’s a big reason why I’ve never minded driving, or being by myself for long periods. I don’t get bored easily; I enjoy reflecting on where I’ve been and who I am and who I want to be; since I started dealing at this casino all I’ve thought about is how I can get better at what I do on my way to get where I want to be. And I love this feeling. I don’t want it to ever go away.

I make my own mixed tapes for when I drive. Usually every month. Mostly they’re just, like, 12 or 14 songs — I like to blend hard hip-hop with depressing alternative rock. I think about different shit on different days, but the sentiment generally remains the same: I’m happy right now.

I joked with my best friend a couple months ago, told him The only downsides to being happy are it automatically makes me less interesting, and typically when I’m happy I’m more of an asshole to people. 

If I’ve learned anything over the last half-decade or so, it’s that these are the times I should be most appreciative. I’m happy I haven’t forgotten that. Because the last time I was this content with my reality it blew up in my face. I would be stupid, stupid, stupid if I didn’t learn from my own mistakes.

Still, I constantly feel like I’m up against some clock. Like whatever I have now I should have had a long time ago, and I should now be further along. I try to keep things in perspective, but I’ve always had a hard time being completely objective with myself. I can be patient. I’ve been waiting, but I can’t wait forever. If I want it, I want it now.

Love,

ER