Ch...ch...ch...changes.

I'm tired of fighting the inevitable.

Over the holidays I got a bunch of crap from a lot of people who love me, or at least like me, along the lines of "when are you going to give up this crappy sobriety job of yours and either get a "real" job OR, at least, start doing something that feeds your soul?"

I've decided that I have a new guardian angel, the former head of Worldwide Equities at Big-Assed-Brokerage House, Incorporated, where I worked from 1983 until liquor became more important than work in 1994. The Angel in question passed away last May and ever since then I've had this nagging, niggling, feeling that he was nudging me back towards the Street to finish out my working years making a few sheckles I can put aside for my REALLY old age.

A very good friend, out of the blue, got a job a few months back at some sort of hedge fund where he had to become a principal of the firm (a high-muckety-muck). That meant becoming licensed with multiple state and federal licenses to act as a stockbroker and also to be able to supervise same. We were talking last week and he casually asked me what would prevent me from working on the street again. "Oh" I said, "I don't have my licenses. They expired many years ago." There was a pause and he said, "That is no longer a problem for you."

Oh, yes it is. I'm thick, but not that thick. I understood what he was offering me. His firm would sponsor me to take the necessary exams, which, basically, meant he was offering me a job.

So, naturally, I called Screen Actors Guild yesterday and inquired as to what it would take to get back into their good graces, too. I'd been a member in good standing of the Guild from 1980 until 1995, when I just ... well, stopped paying my dues. I'm still waiting to hear back from them on that one. I know some agents in recovery now.

Then, another friend who just happens to be a Hip-Hop Artist of some note, started ragging on me to start "getting with" the writing. Not just this blog. She was very serious about me getting very serious.

I don't know what's going on, but I do know that the signs are everywhere. It's time for a change. A REALLY BIG CHANGE.

I hate change. Most drunks do. Things are just fine, thankyewverymuchferaskin'.

But change is inevitable. I have learned that. I've also learned to (somewhat) not be afraid of it.

Growth. It ain't just for puberty anymore.