It’s 4:45 in the morning and I’ve been laying in bed for four hours… with the TV on. Well… most of the time. I turn it off. Then just lay there. Thinking about all the things I should have done this weekend, that I just didn’t bother doing. Thinking about what I’m supposed to be doing tomorrow. Thinking about what I’m supposed to be doing in a month from now. Thinking about what I want to be doing a year from now. The last one is the hardest. I have no idea. I want to experience so many things, but then the reality of life slaps me, and I go back to thinking about money and bills and why/where/what/how… Why haven’t I gotten that piece of paper from a college? Why aren’t I enrolled in SOME class right now? Where will I be 10 years from now. Or 20 years from now. What am I supposed to be doing?
Then I get thinking about what makes other people happy. I think people are happy because I see them with spouses and kids and houses and taking vacations and going out on their boat and doing marathons. But I really have no idea if they’re happy. I want to be happy. I think. Or do I just want to have fun? I think I’m lazy sometimes. I know I’m lazy now-a-days when it comes to actually working or helping other people. I used to be the one helping everyone move and speaking up to do the ‘not-so-fun’ jobs that others didn’t want to do. Now, I’m like most other people. I don’t want to do that stuff, so I don’t.
Then I turn the TV back on. And I get a drink of water. Then fuss with the blankets. Then I get freaked out that I’m not going to wake up in the morning when the alarm goes off, and I’ll be more late for work that I usually am. Then I start thinking about work. I get start working on ideas of how I want to do this and that at work, but then realize that my contract is almost up, and I’ll be out of a job. Sheesh. I need to take something to knock me out – but if I take a sleeping pill NOW, I’ll sleep ’til noon. So then I start composing my thoughts in paragraph format and think I should do some writing. Then I turn the TV off and try to go to sleep.
But, I can’t sleep, because I slept like, 10 hours the night before, and took another five hour nap during the day because I had nothing better to do. And then I get stuck on that. hahaha… funny… sad… silly… dumb. Sometimes I think I’m bipolar or something because I can’t keep a thought in my head. I get excited about an idea and that’s what makes me not able to sleep. But I think it’s all excuses. I feel like I’m not doing anything or going anywhere with my life. I’m just going to work, coming home, watching TV. What’s the point?
There was a time when I was overflowing with entrepreneurial ideas and ways to build a business. Lately, I’m completely not inspired. I’ve had little interest in working on my websites. I put off everything until it’s too late, then either rush to get it done, or just let it pass and forget about it. I’m fairly confused right now. I don’t know how to get back on track. What direction am I heading? Where am I going? What am I doing? I have this idea that most people figure this stuff out in high school or college. And those that don’t, got married along the way and have something going on in their lives. I have… hmm… not much. I have some amazing people in my life, but I don’t feel like I’m serving them the way I should. But I also don’t want to get too connected to anyone, because they might expect things of me. Or, if I do get too close, I’ll have to say goodbye when I leave Seattle. Or that I’ll feel frustrated/depressed/out of place when I see what their life is like, and I’m still doing nothing with mine.
I think about writing a book. Of some kind, but I don’t know what. I think about reading more, because you really should have some experience READING if you’re going to WRITE… at least I think you should anyway. Or do I want to start taking pictures again. Or work on genealogy. Or start playing video games more.
Blah. It’s all so pointless. I can only hope that at some point, one of the thousand things that I do or think or hear or read about will spark my interest enough to stick. I really hope. ‘Cuz if something doesn’t stick, I’ll be a 58 year old bald fat guy eating over my sink and watching Sienfeld reruns, trying to figure out why I didn’t ________________.
One time, my dad said "Don’t ever have to say ‘What if?’" I’m not sure what that means now.