Lately I’ve been finding myself walking around but not really living. I’ve got quite the collection of dreams and wishes and it seems like none of them are even remotely close to becoming true. I’ve lost what it feels like to be excited by life, but then again, I’m not really sure I ever really knew that feeling.
I’ve been spending all my time working, and while I really do like what I do, I find myself yearning for something I can’t quite put my finger on.
I’m counting down the days until it is warm enough for me to sit in a park wearing shorts and no shoes and read a book or hang out with friends or eat ice cream. I’m counting down the minutes until I can spend every weekend laying on the hot rocks beside my river in New York.
I need it back in my life. Winter is far to depressing without that river in my life. I’m terribly afraid that my life is on the verge of spinning wildly out of my control and I just need something stable.