So now my life is changing again. I feel like I have no life whatsoever - it's wasting away right now. During the week I long for the weekend, then when the weekend comes, I waste it entirely, goofing on the computer, reading fanfic, watching stupid television shows so mindlessly that I don't remember by the end of the commercials what I was watching.
And now this autonomy of being may be disrupted once more - by - what? A move to Toronto. Say it ain't so. I still don't know if I really want the job, or if I just feel obligated to go for it, because it would look odd if I didn't - indicate a lack of ambition or drive.
Eh. Whatever. (see: irony)
At this point, I'll just go with the flow (hate that expression). What will come, will come, and I will deal with it then.
I've decided that I need to have a purpose. I used to have one - several, in fact. But lately, nothing. Since the new year (refuse to call it a 'resolution') I've decided to live more deliberately, with more intention. The problem with that is that I need to have an intention to begin with. So far, all I've achieved is that my house is generally cleaner and I cook more than reheat. Not so much to get excited over.
But right now is a hard time to motivate, too. The world is covered in an icy slick. An unbroken expanse of whiteness obliterates the landscape, leaving so little detail that I can't even be sure that I'm on the road.One thing that did delight me this morning was a leaf. Such a small thing. As I drove (crept) carefully along River Road (I love that I take a road called 'River Road' to work) I saw a small dark blur of movement crack the whiteness in front of me. A small, shrivelled and withered brown leaf fluttered across the roadway, tugged along by the wind. It seemed to me to be a brave and fortunate object - somehow escaped from the depths of cold and snow that have locked the world in bleakness.
Small things. A good start, I think.