Drive and Fear

Somebody told me that I tend to write a little like a monkey on tennis enhancers (crystal meth) and misuse "your" and "you're". Fair enough, I see how it is, let's be all professional about this, what have you done that's so great Mom.

Why Are You Awake -
Continuing on, what got you out of bed this morning. Serious question. I bounced up at 4:30am in terror going from laying flat on my back to a tense and perfected kung fu stance at the foot of my bed ready to roundhouse kick the world in the face. But that's just how I wake up. It's what got me out of bed that I'm thinking about on this snowy and cold morning in the Rocky Mountains.

Fear -
Dancing is for Dance Core, construction is for Metro Contractors, but the fear, the fear is all Ben MacLeay. I worked for two years as a baggage handler for the venerable Southwest Airlines during a really difficult time in my life. To the best of Southwest's knowledge I was never late to work, although towards the end I stopped punching in so that on the off chance I was ten minutes late nobody knew the better. My giant schisms in character aside, what got me out of bed and to the airport (a twenty minute drive but an hour of security screens that an entire Al-Qaeda cell could get through if they were willing to waste an hour of their time) was fear. Everything in my life was falling apart and the only thing I had was that job. We had lost our home, we had one car, the dance studio was flaundering on good days and I was opporating terrified.
So I got up at 4 or sometimes even 3:30am to get to work on time and kill myself for $10.18/hr. In snow and rain I was outside by 5am loading freight and bags into the underbelly of a glorified flying public transit bus on my hands and knees.
Then in July I got the opportunity to quit, my brother assured me that I could make $2k a month minimum in the construction business and so on July 31st 2009, I accepted a tiny buyout from Southwest and took my fear to a whole new level.

Fear and Self Motivation
Today when I took my deathly wushu stance at the end of the bed three seconds after the alarm went off a cold shiver coarsed through my entire body and I thanked God that I did not have to go outside for the next seventeen hours straight and take legalized abuse in front of a disinterested row of spectators peaking out tiny windows eating peanuts and judging me. Waking up at 4:30 sucks each and every day, but I had to do it before, now I get to do it.

What do you get to do? What pain do you get put yourself through to change everything? do you feel the fear and one inch punch the world in the brain?