Sober and Homesick

Yeah so what's up. I've deleted around ten entries since last week. I'm not bleggalgazing. I'm navelgazing. I don't doubt the efficacy of the blog as much as the person writing it. My boss is smart to not pay me more. I'd save up $5K and quit. I really need six months in the woods. I've been tempted to re-read On The Road lately. I know it's a lie. There's no freedom. There's just better and worse responsibilities. And your ability to choose them. It's the narcissistic focus on the former that forms the vast world of small differences that distract us from our relative powerlessness concerning the latter.

As for me, life assumes a familiar pattern from my unhappy and precocious childhood:
1. Do nothing.
2. Feel sorry for myself in public.
3. Receive nice comments from friends (all of whom eventually tire of this game).
4. Feel better about myself.
5. Go to 1.

This is 2. Instead of 3, I need help with 1. I don't know how to do otherwise. Except at work. Somehow, it's much easier to work for other people than myself. Of course, if I never learn how to work for myself, I'll always be working for other people.

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