... left me for dead, but still I fight on.
I know that I'm far from infallible, but when I make stupid mistakes and they are pointed out to me rather pointedly, my heart rises in my throat and it feels like a punch in the gut. Then I can't help but think, "GOD, I'M SUCH A @#$%ING MORON!"
After reading Sarah Hepola's last blog entry, I tried to remember why I'd started my blog in the first place. I used to post regularly in another one, which is no longer linked to this profile, about philosophy and trying to understand the human condition. THe purpose of this blog is somewhat related to that cause, but it's more like looking at the situation that Dallas is in and what I can do as a citizen journalist to pull it up by its bootstraps. It started as a place to lament my first year out in the "real world" as well.
Now it just seems like I bitch a lot and melt over Dave, which in retrospect makes me look like a huge, ineffective pussy (pardon me, but it's true). What happened to the tough-as-nails, devil-may-care attitude that was the original author's voice? Well, she got engaged and started fretting over her career.
I thought about freelancing a bit. Like just testing the market with my opinions. But after reading Sara Hepola's column on freelancing, I should definately keep my day job. The thing is, if I did freelance, where would I find time to cook, to clean and knit and sew and all the little hobbies that I enjoy? Would I ever really relax? What about yoga? Would I ever be able to sit still or quiet my mind?
I keep wanting more, and I guess that's the point of life. Not the material more, but the spiritual and ambitious more, the one that fills your spirit and not your house with junk. But when can I fulfill these ambitions? When can I find the time to dedicate myself to this? When can wanting more mean actually having it?
Maybe I should just suck it up and stop waiting for an opportunity and make my own...