I haven't submitted/posted/written in this blog for the longest time. So I got to asking myself, why? The truth is, I haven't got the foggiest idea. It's not like I don't have things to inspire me, or a very boring life. Quite the opposite, actually. So WTF?! Could it be that I am just plain lazy? Why is it that people in this world, wracked with the most morbid self loathing or the most self deifying narcissism can put out small novels in blogs? I just don't get it.
Anyhow, here goes for my own two cents worth. I am in a very interesting space at the moment. My life is never easy. Every day I try to find new reasons to justify why it is I woke up that morning. No, this is not me sending out invites to my pity party. It's just something that the universe decided was to be what I like to call my life. Actually, I don't have too much to complain about. Blessings abound! The problem is, I want more.
You can do the checklist. Job? Check. Roof over my head? Check. Food on the table? Check. Girlfriend? Well, on that one, it's a very hazy check. So what, exactly, is the problem? My life has actually taken on some interesting dimensions lately. I'm getting out a lot more. I'm never short of friends. So why all this angst? Sure, there are things that I need, but don't most of us? I have dreams and desires. For heavens sake, these are what drive me! So why all this insecurity, all of a sudden? I thought I left that behind after puberty. Is this what they call a midlife crisis? My God, I'm turning into Woody Allen! If things carry on like this, I'm going to be a card-carrying member of neurotics anonymous.
They say that men never know what it is that women want. Forget that! Right now, I need to figure out what I want. It's hard to think outside the box when you're living outside your mind half the time. I know I'd like to travel some more -- speaking of which, there is still a half written blog on my last trip I still haven't published. Note to self: FINISH IT! -- I digress. It's no secret that I desire, perhaps more than anything else, someone to share my life with. For that, I need to be patient. Yeah, that's me… Will Patience Scott. I've done more than 20 years of it! It does get a bit old from time to time. Yet, after having said all that, I feel like I'm still missing something.
What is it going to take to be content? Don't get me wrong, I have no need for others to massage my ego. Surprisingly, I like the person I am… even though I frustrate myself more than any wife ever could. Ambition, it turns out, is a bitch of a mistress. The way things are going, nothing is ever going to be good enough. As I read my own words, I feel the most deep, dark despair for the poor soul that says "I do" to me on our wedding day. Where is "nature versus nurture" in all this? For heaven's sake, there are days where I feel like I was toilet trained at gunpoint! Maybe, the truth is, I am simply another screwed up member of the human race trying to figure out the logic behind it all. Yeah, good luck with that.
