Can I eat it?

New York, or not? Guttmacher, or something new? School now, later, never? And what degree?

Can someone please tell me the path that will lead me to a life in which I do not spend the majority of my time sitting at my desk and staring at my computer?

I know that I’m frustrated, but I can’t tell if it’s because I’m moving in the wrong direction, or just not moving in the right direction fast enough. All I want is a day alone in a printmaking studio, with pots of ink and fun paper and a load of plates just waiting to be puttered with. A dog running around would be nice too, though it would be a safety hazard—- oh, for fuck’s sake. I can’t even fantasize without thinking about safety hazards. I am so far from where I want to be.

Joanna just posted this, and I want it to be my picture. I want to leave for a month and rattle around gorgeous mountains in a minivan with one differently colored door. I want to climb to the tops of things, then sit with my friends and just enjoy feeling good. I want to be the kind of person who just leaves for a month to do that, the kind of person who doesn’t worry about health insurance and student loan payments, and not incidentally I would like to be the kind of person who has functional knees.

It’s hard to start a new life when you have to meet the demands of the one that you’re currently living.

So said my brother. Felt like a compliment at the time, but lately it’s a description I’m sick of deserving.

This is not going to happen.

It’s been two years.  There has been no magical moment of clarity, no giant alarm bell in the sky that goes off when I’m about to make the Wrong Move. I’m on my own, and I don’t trust myself at all.

Fuckity fuck fuck mcfuckerson. I just want to get it right.