*Sigh*

Ever feel like you amount to nothing, you have no discernible prospects, and that you, essentially, are wasting precious oxygen supplies?

Well, that’s kind of how I’m feeling at the moment.  It’s hard shaking this recent bout of woe-is-me attitude.

Stamping Your Name On Uncertainty

For the past seven months, I have nestled into the warm cultural mediocrity of Northern Virginia, cloistered in the childhood bedroom of my parents house, awaiting to pounce upon the next step of life with the zeal of a whack-a-mole player.  Furthermore, I’ve returned to the manically-paced retail position that I swore I would never return to, where I’ve rekindled my flirtations with cigarettes and night caps.

Remaining stationary on the sidelines while the lives of my friends and family progress has been frustrating, and at times rather dejecting: I’m twenty-six years old with no career prospects, no house, no children, no wife, and I’ve even managed to strike car-ownership from the list of responsibilities expected of modern adults in an industrialized nation.

It all seems rather grim.

Yet, I must remind myself of my recent desire to explore the positive attributes in any situation.  Perhaps there is something liberating in having virtually no responsibilities and materials to occupy me.  Perhaps this recent bout of self-absorbed melancholy can be alleviated by considering that my life is rather open, and the scope of possibility exceeds that of others who are less fortunate and lucky as I.  Perhaps my sanguineness need not go the way of the S&P 500.