I'll be home for christmas!

If only in my dreams.










(there was more to this post, it just got deleted when I timed out from blogspot. In it was my venting of my frustrations with my car as well as my resilliant attitude and thoughts of making it home... sorry you missed it, I'm not recreating it tonight. )

...

Ok, I will admit it, it has been a long time since I've posted anything. Now I could chalk it up to finally being busy with work or all my time lost in another play, but the simple fact of the matter is I didn't know what to write. It seems that most of the time I feel like writing are in times when I'm not doing the best. Times when life is been rough with me, tossed me around a few times. And really I didn't want to sound depressed, or get anyone down by my morose mood. I hate to admit it, but I'm there again.

I'm at the verge of things collapsing yet again. Every day finds me striving to get more hours at work, more time at a job that barely pays anything with no real recognition for the hard work that is put forth. My nights are filled with doubts and fears leading to no action taking.

In the end, I just don't know what I'm doing. I don't know where things are headed. I don't know where I wish to go. I lost my direction somewhere along the way. I don't know what I want. I don't know where to look for it. I don't know what "it" is that I'd be looking for anyway.

I used to think that I just need to move out to get "it" all back. And though I believe it will help, I shouldn't have to rely on such outside stimuli to find happiness. The Great Charlie Brown once said that happiness is finding a pencil. I guess you could say that joy could be found in the little things. But really it is the little things that are most upsetting these days. Not getting into that play really put a damper on things. Not being right for the part feels the same as not being good enough. I hate not being "good enough".

I think I lost where I was going.