Drive

The subtlety hinted island music of Kenny Chesney streamed through the speakers. A typewriter, a surfboard, and some hurriedly packed necessities were the only thing that accompanied me on this trip. The flicker of a new key chain caught the suns rays, from the open roof, teasing the corner of my eye. I looked down at the barely touched word Jeep, that is embedded in the new leather, proud of the things I have accomplished this past year. I had a lot of things to be proud of, I walked out on my job, I dropped out of college, and I followed my dreams. Now here I am a short year later  with a typewriter and a blog, traveling to all the greatest  beaches along the eastern coast, soon all the coasts. I personally get to test all of them out, with the expertise of salt water in my veins and the waves fueling my spirit, there won't be a beach along this coast I haven't rated.  What ambitious twenty one year old wouldn't want to obtain a career such as this one. Don't get me wrong I was scared, frightened actually. I had never been the person to just up and walk out on my job. I had always been the do-gooder that would finish everything to the end. I picked up the phone with my heart racing, ready to beat out of my chest, dialed my boss's number five minutes before my shift and told her I wasn't taking anymore of her jive and I quit. You should have heard her scream in anstonishment. Did she get angry? No, she was more surprised then anything. So she offered me another job where I could work whenever I wanted, with that I knew I must have been doing something right. With the precious time I had off I followed my gut and began to write. Now here I am in a shiny black Jeep Wrangler, a surfboard, and a typewriter fulfilling all my dreams.