It’s always about me.

I’m going to be 32 this year– that’s a fairly big deal to me.  Single, female, no good men on the horizon, the whole 9 yards.  *yawn*

I’m mildly depressed right now and am trying not to succumb to that fucked up place in the larger “survival of the fittest” scheme, although lately I’ve been suspecting that cancer or something like that is in my future.  Something to explain why I’ve made no lasting connections with the potential for procreation.  Probably just cognitive dissonance at work again.

Here’s where that part gets interesting.  I quit my job recently to figure it all out.  Well, maybe not all, but at least my slice.  It will be a great challenge to keep my head up when I’m painfully lonely and have no job.

How do I know that I’m mildly depressed?  The only people that I find interesting lately are either fictional (characters in movies, e.g.) or are famous (artists, entrepreneurs, leaders in business).  I regularly burst out in tears.  I am unable to find mental quiet.  My attention span is non-existent.

What I’m doing to overcome this state– attempts to exercise or stay active, going out with friends when the activities seem appealing, searching for a job that I can honestly say I’m interested in, keeping the dream alive of one day having the courage to start a business (i.e., confronting all of the risks associated with that start-up).

I wish that my universe was about more than marital status and career (and to a lesser degree, body image).  I’ve sent out a cry for help with my soul-searching.  A guide, a kit, a template, a roadmap would be nice.

I don’t always pick up my phone and it’s not always located within earshot.  I wish people would get over it.

My dream?  Full creative license + changing the world.

Just another self-indulgent rant by your average malcontent.

Spinning deeper into aimlessness.  Need to get off this (I know) dumb horse and start making money because I know (I know) that is the first key to getting my mind back. 

I’m not living life.

Can’t believe how he did this to me again (how I let him).  How does someone make all these intricate plans to come and then not even bother communicating otherwise?  What is his purpose?  It’s so completely sad what I let myself go through.

Can’t  even talk to anyone about what is happening with him because it’s so ridiculous.  Because I shouldn’t even be letting him ENTER my mind let alone considering him a factor in my life.

Writing in here makes me feel worse.

I have to ask myself, do I want to continue down this path of searching for jobs across countless search engines online looking at jobs that I have realistically ZERO interest in or do I want to take some huge risks and put myself out there and start some bajillion-to-one enterprise?