guard your dreams, my friends.

If you're someone who has (a) made public your dream job; (b) ever told another person about something you'd like to start; or (c) serious trust issues (whether genetic or learned), then you must read this post. I don't trust the rest of you.

Let me cut to the takeaway, my good reader: hold fast to your dreams. And by "hold fast", I mean guard your dreams. Don't talk about them publicly, don't write about them, and - for the love of all that is good and private - do not share them with your significant other. Dreams belong in the back of your mind.

As many of you know, I've long advocated for a healthy helping of distrust. It's like carrying around an invisible shield. I've been known to look over my shoulder with my back against the wall. And on that note, I've always benefited from thoroughly reading into every word someone speaks to me. It's another defense mechanism. Just today I crossed paths (but had no eye contact) with a new guy at work (my other job):
Him: How are you today? 
Me: (Yep, Bilderbergs are after me again. Knew I couldn't trust that dude. Typical. He's an NSA implant. Just walk away...act like you're answering your phone and can't hear him...)

But in the spirit of transparency, I admit to you that even I slip up now and again. And that's where this post makes a turn for the worse.

You see, about a year-and-a-half ago, I started a career journey down the path of mediocre bird photography. From the start I looked at it as a way to give back to people (in return for money). As if starting weren't a large enough accomplishment to dwarf anything most of you have done, I pressed on for the next key performance indicator. As my readership aspirations skyrocketed, I, perhaps, became a bit "too big for my corduroy pants" as they say. In other words, I started getting loose lips and sharing my goals with my "wife".

Fast forward 15 months. In the midst of a much-needed 15-month stress leave, I received a pristine photo via iMessage from Wisconsin of a bald eagle circling above a beautiful lake. It was amazing. I could make out the colors of the bird, the various shades of greens in the trees (which is really overkill - one shade is plenty), and the gorgeous sky. Had I not already been crying from watching a Family Matters rerun where Eddie concedes the class president election to the smarter girl, I would have started crying when I saw said photo.

You see, my so-called "best friend" had just snapped the photo and sent me a caption that read, "Grandpa Fred literally just saw this bald eagle swoop down and grab a fish about 20 yards away."

And just like that, my dream had been stolen. I thought I was the mediocre bird photog. I already knew I couldn't trust Grandpa - I mean, no real human can possibly whistle that beautifully. So I didn't fault him. But my own wife? (Actually, I kind of knew something was up. She was constantly rushing off in the mornings to "take the kids to school". But the GPS tracker showed that sometimes she went to Starbucks.)

Anywho, there isn't much more to say. There is no happy ending here. GUARD YOUR DREAMS. No, forget that. Don't dream. It's too risky.