Monday, May 19, 2008
blah Monday . . .
I am feeling stretched and stressed, not enjoying what I'm doing. It's a chore to sit down at my desk, working on yet another unintelligible text. I keep thinking that I'll find the right path, but it seems there are nothing but weeds and detritus in the way.
When I was much younger, I overheard two girls on the subway, talking in the way college girls do. "I don't care what I do," said one to the other, "as long as it's creative."
Well, I'm feeling like that, but I can't seem to break through this plastic wrap that seems to envelope me and cut off my air supply. What to do at this point, I don't know. I'm a bit beyond What Color Is Your Parachute, not that it was any help way back when to begin with. Ack.