Blink. Blink. Blink-a-blink-a-blink-a-blink. Is my cursor on a blank blog post that I have stared at for blink hours blink blink today. Blink. Time marches on, the sun rises and sets, and the damn cursor keeps blinking.
Monday was the start of a new semester at the college, which you would think would be a handy symbol for new beginnings and fresh pages and blank slates and all that bullshit, except that it's not really feeling that way at all. I am teaching the same course to what might as well be the same students, and my textbook is dog-eared and I already have my lesson plans from last semester, so why change? As opposed to this time last semester, I now find myself with three jobs, each a more puny and miserable waste of my time than the last, and yet somehow I have no more money in my pocket or in the bank, and the days are no less empty. Blink. Blink-a-blink. And as I bumble and totter around the empty house, gazing stupidly out windows and at computer screens, I think, Isn't there something I should be doing? I rack my brain and come up with nothing. But surely there must be something I should be doing? There is not. I check the job listings again. There is nothing. I check Okcupid. (Or, as I call it, Ok-if-you-like-your-men-at-shoulder-level.) There are 5'8" baby daddies, and then, nothing.
Though I know it can't be true, it feels like nothing is ever going to change. Though the last few weeks and months have brought new jobs, new people, and a new roommate, I still feel stagnant, moldy, mired down, stuck. I have tried part-time employment, online dating, volunteering, team trivia, book club, yoga, and still, in the end, it all boils down to nothing. It doesn't change the fact that my phone never rings, or that my married friend and former workout partner ditched me in favor of chatting up some blond on the elliptical, and exchanged information with her right in front of me, I mean god.
It's just me and the damn cursor again. Blink. And yet through it all there's the feeling that I have lost something that I can't quite put my finger on. Like I've packed for a trip and left something terribly vital at home. And so I implore the universe, or the Internet with its wise and all-seeing eye:
What. THE FUCK. Should I be doing?