Punch It Up

A random person commented on Liz's blog, and following the link back to the random person's blog revealed a very funny personal blog. Looking over my blog, you'd think I was a workaholic with time for nothing other than complaining about politics and watching movies.

I got to thinking about how I should make more posts about the funny things that happen in my life, and my wry observations regarding those things, when I realized that my life is actually pretty fucking boring, and I don't have a lot of wry observations to make on anything. And I got to thinking about that some more, and the more I thought about it, the deader I felt on the inside. And I started looking really hard, and I'm beginning to wonder where the life is at all right now.

Wolfgang posted a quote from Mark Twain on his blog a few days ago, something along the lines of: "twenty years from now, you'll regret the things you didn't do much more than you'll regret the things you did do." The problem is, aside from working at my job, going to the gym, and buying a house, I'm not doing a whole fuck of a lot. I've written a little, but it wasn't long ago that I was cranking out 10,000 words a month on my novel (sometimes more). I'm playing a lot of DnD (whoop-de-do), but so much of the stuff that is still important to me - traveling, experiencing cultures and people, and so on - I've back-burnered. I've thought before that I feel fuzzy and withdrawn, and I'm still trying to figure out if that's just how you live your life as a responsible adult, or if I'm missing out on something much wider than my life at the moment.

Gack. Just gack. It's been a while since I've felt this discontented, unmotivated, and generally depressed. Part of that may be tied into the fact that I feel like I've accomplished very little at work this week (which isn't really the case), but I've also got to ask myself why it is I would feel depressed over my job - which is just my job?