stuck in the mud

I’ve checked my email about 15 times today. I wonder if this means I’m lonely, bored, in desperate need of communication and another distraction, frustrated with the security blanket of nine 2 five, suffering from some sever attention deficit disorder, lazy, hungover, or crazy. Maybe I’m a bit of all of the above? Ritalin makes me too wacky and angry. Calm is the state in which solace and certainty are supposed to be found. But how the hell does one decide, once calm, on where to go? For some it must be easier than others. Some might have more discipline, or some might whine less. Some are completely satisfied with monotony, others are so lost in their own mind that boredom is never a state in which they lose themselves. What are you? I know I have no fcuking idea where I fit in the realm, the spectrum of careers that every little boy and girl is encouraged to chase. Be an engineer, they make 50 plus a year coming out of school, they’re respected, they are PROFESSIONALS, they don’t have to worry about finding jobs usually for usually the demand is far greater than the supply. And THEN, once you’ve achieved that, THEN you can chase your dreams. But I have too many dreams, so many that I don’t know which to chase. My mind never stops racing with ideas, each of which are equally amusing, none of which pay bills, although all of which are usually satisfying the moment they snap, crackle and pop across synapses in an explosion of enlightened inspiration. And yours? What drives you? Love? Thirst? Lust? Photography, nursing, architecture, pumping gas, throbbing thighs wrapped around your lover? This shit ain’t easy, this game called life. Entertaining? At times. I’m certainly entertaining moi-meme by expounding upon nothing for the sake of not checking over my drawings for the fiftieth time, or checking my email yet again, wondering why 10,000 people haven’t left messages, insights into meaning in life, into what it means to suffer from delusions of grandeur or difficulty paying attention, into what it means to chase one string to one golden balloon, ignoring fifteen thousand red, yellow, orange, green and blue ones floating in a haze of happiness and certainty. Five minutes have passed and we’ve traveled no-where. We’re stuck in a blood boiling traffic jam on I-290 and the coffee has just spilled on our lap, necks tired from twisting to catch twenty accidents aligning the side of the road, the stereo is stuck on the Moody Bible Station, satan has polluted the earth, the heater’s broken, and we’re nearly out of gas….three more hours until yoga, thank the lord.

Jobe.is.nutz.