Today has been a really rough day. I'm just emotionally drained, and my head hurts. Thinking is inevitable, though, and I can't stop it. There are too many options to consider, too much stress lying squarely on my shoulders. I need a decision, and I need something to give. I haven't even given myself permission to write, so everything is bottled up and threatening to explode like those stupid (and AWESOME) volcanoes that kids used to perennially enter into science fairs. Hope springs eternal, I guess.
My frustration is . . . overwhelming. What do I want out of life? I'm at the point where I want some stability, and the thought of a plan. An outline. A fucking flow chart. Something that will tell me where to go, and what I shouldn't waste my time on. My endeavours thus far have been worthwhile (to me, anyway). Most people probably think I'm nuts for doing so many different things, and constantly seeking out new experiences. It's not even really a choice.
I'm driven. I am kind of tired of being driven - I'm ready to drive. No, wait, let's take that metaphor a bit further - I'd even go so far as to say I'm ready to be a passenger. There are many times (becoming more frequent) when I'm envious of the people who know their whole lives exactly what they want, and how they'll go about it. I could use a dose of that right now - but Charles reminded me today that I have a lot of really great options from which to choose.
And for those who know me best, I would hope that they know that I'm not as wishy-washy as I seem. I have seen and done a lot, and life is short. I just don't want to miss anything.
But while I'm busy not missing anything, what am I missing? Isn't there something to be said about direction? I want to find out!