When I Grow Up.

I’m having one of those days where I feel inconsequential.

I’m 26. I live in New York. I have an apartment and can pay my bills and have a job that typically doesn’t make me want to gouge my eyes out.

And yet. I feel like I’ve done so little. That I expected I’d do more with my life than what I’m currently doing.

I’m restless.

And when I get restless I start looking for other things to do.

(Mind you, this is in addition to attempting to write books/find an agent/have meaningful friendships.)

When I’m in these moods I’m all of a sudden like, “I should go back to school! I’ll take graphic design classes or maybe website design, or how about getting my teaching license? I’d make a bomb-ass teacher!”

And then I realize that I just used the word “bomb-ass” and question every decision I’ve ever made.