Wishful Thinking

I’ve realized that I’ve moved into the second and often deadly stage of personal blogging.  This is the part where all the wit I’ve saved up for the last year or so has run out and I now actually have to come up with new and (hopefully) interesting things to share with the world on a somewhat regular basis lest I forget that the blog even exists, which is exactly how my last blog died.

The trouble is my life is quite frankly rather dull.  It is true that my college years and the year following were rather exciting and filled with random acts of silliness that kept most everyone on their toes when it came to what it was I was up to.  Lately however, things have been rather monotonous.  I can’t find a decent job, my family can’t seem to function if I am gone for more than 5 minutes and everyone wants me where they are.

Let’s face it, I’m in a rut.  My family is draining the life out of me and I’ve lost all motivation to try to counteract that.  Most days I’m more than content with just lying in bed all day and succumbing to the inevitable suck that will hit me as soon as I go upstairs.  If I’m honest, I’ve not a clue what to do but I’m quite tired of people telling me what I should do.

It looks like my family is moving to Richmond, VA, and I really, really don’t want to move there.  It is one of the very few places in this country that I don’t know a soul.  To me, my home is Boston.  Even though there are only a handful of people left there that I know it still feels more like home to me than anywhere else I’ve ever been.  San Francisco was fun, but I always just felt like a long term tourist.  Salt Lake City fantastic snow, but I just didn’t really fit in.  PA, well, PA is great for some people, just not me.

As I’ve told many people, I think my next great journey will be Chicago.  I’m sure the other people involved in that move would also agree in my saying I’ll believe it when I see it.  America is supposed to be the land of opportunity, not the land of forget your dreams and be a miserable slave, a sentiment that I think more and more of us are feeling with every passing day.

More than anything though, I want to be able to talk to my friends and have something good to say.  My friends have always given me the shoulder to cry on and I have used it quite a lot, and I’m trying really hard to use it less and less.  I don’t want to be known as the dark cloud that enters the room and kills everything in its wake.  Whether that is true or not, that’s how I feel, and that hurts more than anything.