But, I am writing again. maybe, things have kinda settled down and I can think clearly every once in a while.
I think I've gotten too busy with life that I'm having trouble keeping up with living it, not just doing it. Sure, I'm going out nearly every night of the week. But, the weeks end up as a blur. And now it's feb. January was a speeding train. Over and done with, with little to show for it. I spend my days wandering the internet looking at stupid videos and reading politcal commentary. Why do I feel useless in monotony? Little changes from week to week, with only the promise of a coming trip, a weekend, a day off, or leaving early to excite me.
I admire those people who take off like Jack Kerouac and head for the open road. I'm reading Through Painted Deserts by Donald Miller. It tempts me. someday, I'll do it. I think I want to go to Peru first. anybody up for it?