What to Do

What to do...what to do.

No, really. What the Fuck do I do?

Move to Maine and live with my Dad...regroup, save money? Move to Jacksonville and stay with family there while I get back up on top of things? Move closer to Boston so I can retire my vehicle...get a job, try to save money? Move to New Mexico...just 'cause? Do I know anybody out West?

My head hurts. I am sick of spending way too much on my old car, just to allow me the ability to travel, if I need to, to my job, if I can find one. A good one. Not that I don't have little stuff to keep me going, but I want that kick-ass job that I deserve dammit! I don't care where it is, as long as independent thinking is welcomed rather than forbidden...as long as there are no corny rules about "cubicle etiquette"....Jesus, what are we, in finishing school?

I want more time to spend on whatever the hell I want to do creatively. I've got so many ideas, and so much stress over other considerations, that my motivation to do much more than fret is minimal. Lame excuse. Just this day. This day sucked. I always know...I wake up knowing.

I watched a show about a portly dude who travels around and eats strange foods in strange lands. The show last night was about Ethiopia. I still want to go to Africa and lend a helping hand to the poor and downtrodden there...but maybe I won't go to Ethiopia. How frustrating it is to be so conditioned against scary, dirty, unpleasant situations. I am drawn toward rough and/or depressing scenarios because I think that I could be a tough, hardworking force for change...but I bet it would be harder than I could ever imagine.

Oh well. This day is almost over, and at the very least, I have freshly-baked apple pie, vanilla ice cream and Top Chef on TV. Tomorrow will be different. I will figure out what to do.