Unstoked

It seems like it's been forever since I wrote a post here, when in reality it's only been eight days. I guess I needed a break. To order my thoughts, perhaps. Or maybe life seems a bit unimpressive and I've tried to keep that to myself. For a number of reasons, really. I don't want to drag other people down. And there's no sense moaning about life when it could be so much worse.

I got my health. A roof over my head. Food in my belly. Clothes on my back. Friends and family, though slightly behind me and to the left, they are still there. And cute boys. I have all of these things.

So, why am I feeling so disenchanted?

Well, the daily job is a bummer. It doesn't matter that I'm a firm believer my 9-5 does not define me. I mean, I know it isn't who I am, but it still irks me that it's where I am. Sure, it helps pay some of my bills. But not all of them. Money is constantly hanging over my head. I hate the feeling of doing things simply for the green. They say money doesn't buy happiness, but it sure could make the giant axe wielded by bill collectors seem less sharp. The home I live in. Yeah, it's nice enough, but buying a place seems to have put some restrictions on my future. And maybe that was a silly thing for me to do. I miss my cat.

But above everything else?

My birthday is at the end of the month.

It's a big one. A nice round numbered one. And one that has me feeling unaccomplished. Displaced. Stuck.

Most people reflect on their lives around New Year's day, when they are trying to better themselves, but birthdays are when I really get thinking. Is this it for me? Am I where I'll be for the next five or ten years? Is the dissatisfaction warranted? Or am I just acting foolish? Maybe everyone feels this way every now and again.

It still doesn't change the fact that I want to overhaul everything. Shake things up. And stop watching my life pass me by. Honestly, I don't know where I'll be in a year, and I am fully aware fretting and toiling over these things are useless. There's no guarantee on tomorrow, but today just seems unsatisfying, and it's barely started.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not always like this, but for some reason, I am supremely unstoked lately. Not even the promise of birthday cake on the horizon can rectify that.

And that's another thing. Why are birthdays so disappointing for me? I don't know if I've ever had an amazing one. On one hand, I don't want to be alone, but on the other I don't want to plan something for myself. Guess I'm just lazy. And I suspect that's the culprit of most of my issues these days. Laziness.

Maybe this is what they mean when they talk about the birthday blues.