Monkeying Around

i miss writing. i still have inspired moments but nothing poetic anymore. i get caught up with work issues or texting or going home to learn about my cholesterol that i forget about being inspired and retreat to passing the time waiting for everyone to go to bed so i can have the space all to myself. i miss my space. i miss not having to close the doors when i don't feel like talking to anyone. i miss watching dvds after a crappy "meal" and a few smokes to relieve myself of feeling full. i miss my privacy.

i find that i'm revisiting my teenage angst again now that i'm back home -- why i started hating going to mass, why i've kept comparing my parentage to that of tv sitcom families ... why i even bother.

i have to admit, it's affecting my attitude towards work too. why do i even bother?

with a friend's advice, i've started writing down my thoughts about my career and what i'd like to do in the future. she told me to come up with a comprehensive matrix to help me decide which path to take. i think i just have commitment issues with work. i don't know what i need to break out of this enduring rut.