It never gets any easier.  Never.  When you set a goal or dare to chase a dream the last thing on your mind is failure.  You start thinking about the feel of the road beneath your new car's tires, not a contingency plan for only being able to afford the Pinto.  Yet failure, highly probable as an end result in most dream chases, doesn't keep you from trying.  I'm starting to wonder if it should.

I like to talk, tell stories - - I'm gregarious.  But I don't like to talk about those things that pain me or upset me personally.  So I am writing this down as a form of therapy to try and alleviate some of the disappointment and hurt I am feeling right this second.  In the end the comments will be, "If it was meant to be...," or, "Something even better will come out of this."  And I appreciate the concern and the support, but as I said, it doesn't make it any easier.  

This is about a job.  No.  A career.  A job is what I have now.  Something that pays the bills.  Something that I wake up for, not with glee or giddiness, but out of necessity.  A job.  And to be sure I am lucky I have a a job.  In this economy with all the B.S. that is whirling around us I am more than fortunate.  But I stuck my neck out again, despite repeatedly having my dreams dashed by fate or whatever.  I was hoping my career, at 31 3/4 years old, was about to begin.  Instead I am sitting here, trying to man up, and purge myself of the negative thoughts by writing this out.  Maybe it will help me.  Maybe it will help someone else.  Maybe there are too many maybes.

When I left college I had no idea, no purpose, to where my life should take me.  A few years later, after living in London for a while, working in radio advertising, and still unsure, I joined the army.  I thought it would help me discover more things about myself that I had yet to find.  And I also thought it would help me as a stepping stone to the FBI.  Six years later, after fast-tracking my way from the enlisted side to the officer corps, spending 16 months in Iraq, and learning more about myself than I had bargained for, I left the army to chase my FBI dream.  That door was slammed shut after I took the test because I am a moron where math is involved.  And math had its fingerprints all over that first test.  

Then I started contract work for the government.  I quickly settled in, did well and had the opportunity to become a project manager and make even more money.  But money, with all honesty, has never motivated me.  I want more out of life.  I'm like Veruca Salt in "Willy Wonka," when it comes to life.  I want as much as I can get, and preferably on my terms.  So one day a buddy suggested I re-take the FBI test.  I said no.  No thanks.  No more dreams crushed by math for me.  Then he said the math is gone.  Sign me up!  I took the test and passed it and the recruiter even said he thought I was golden.  I heard this before but let myself become once again entranced by those words of encouragement.  Then it was on to Phase II, a panel interview.  Hell yes.  I excel at talking about myself so bring it on.  Off to New York City I flew and my initial thoughts were, "I nailed it."  Then the last two weeks gave me ample time to nag and claw at myself.  I should have said this.  Why didn't I say that?  What's my back-up plan, because I'm gonna need one.   

I wouldn't be writing this if I had just found out I had passed and was basically months away from starting my career.  Instead I am trying, as hard as I can, to get through this without sounding like I am looking for pity.  I really am not.  What I am trying to do is remind myself of the wonderful fortunes life has already given me.  So here I go.  

Yeah, it's a job.  But it's my job and 15 other people depend on me to manage them well.  I don't know how they view me, but we seem to be doing well.  So much so that I have never even met my bosses in person.  That could be laziness on their part, but for the sake of boosting myself up I'll say it is because I don't need supervision to be a good manager.  We're doing fine and the customer seems to be very pleased.    

Even better, and maybe even more improbably, I am married to my high school sweetheart though we lost touch for nearly ten years.  And despite my numerous flaws (like, I don't know, as many flaws as there are words in War & Peace), she is my biggest fan.  The life is not ideal (because of location), but I have never been with anyone who works as hard as I do to make the most of things.  Plus she's pregnant with our first kid, or as I like to call the thing, "the next really obnoxious reality star who will be famous for no reason."  So I got that going for me, which is nice (Bill Murray, Caddyshack).  And I think we are a really cool couple.  If I got the FBI gig I'd be away from her for the next five months.  Not the most kosher considering the timing anyway.  

What else?  My dad and my mom are still together, after 40 years!  That is a miracle, believe me.  My dad is one of my best friends and I just found out my mom not only read my last bit of writing, she liked it.  I've got a great brother and sister that I should spend more time getting to know, so maybe I'll set out to do that.  And my wife and I have two great dogs.  Well, one is a kindred spirit and the other, a puppy of spriteful (not a word but I am claiming it as one) terror.  He'll fall in line soon.    

And one of my best treasures is my collection of friends.  I have the best group of college friends a guy could want.  I have learned so much from watching them operate within the confines of their family dynamics.  My best friend, male to the core, leading his two young girls through life is truly a blessing.  My other friends, quick to point out the good and the bad, tell it like it is.  That's when you know someone is your friend, they don't sugar coat and they don't blow smoke.  I appreciate it.  And I have made some incredible new friends with the guys I have worked with for the past year or so.  They are younger, mostly, more raw, and seemingly much smarter than I was at their age.  But I feel in many ways like some sagely sensei almost predestined to teach these young men about the best of life.  I am their facilitator of fun and I love hanging out with them.

So what if this most recent dream crashed and burned.  I have a wife, job, house (and mortgage payments), great family, friends, dogs, my health and a baby on the way.  Yet, I suppose it is human nature to look every grand thing life has given us right in the face, and turn our back to say, "if only."  But you know what, I'm only going to use it in this sentence:  If only the FBI knew what they were missing.  At least I still have my ninja claws.