194. My Life Is Fucking Perfect (Not)

So I’m sitting at this local cafe, living ‘the laptop lifestyle’, sipping latte and blogging about what’s on my mind.

Except that I’m doing it to escape our two-roomer and a baby and get an overview of what’s in my mind. Or rather: Check a growing feeling of despair this morning. Haven’t felt that so bad in a long time.

Dissatisfied with my creative life – it is … drifting. At best.

Dissatisfied with income earning, and how to. It is tolerable. At best.

Dissatisfied with my sex life. Obviously. We are new parents. It is acceptable, but it just adds up.

Dissed about my sense that life at this age is slipping by me and I am not accomplishing anything. On the one hand. On the other scared about being so consumed about this or that that I loose perspective: What I mean is – I don’t want to die of cancer at 66, remembering back at this time and how I used my time and that I only used it to fret about money and not appreciate my son, or my friendships, for example. What good is money if you make it worse for yourself by not allowing you to feel some of the abundance you DO have? Why am I always falling in this trap?

Well, I should know better and I do. But this morning everything is just so fucking overwhelming. In my mind at least.

So I promised to be home in a few hours, to help with everything. I have no solutions. I have only had a few hours to get all the feelings out, here and in my notebook.

But that is the best I can do for now. Otherwise I would have exploded back home and just made everything worse.

Sometimes you have to appreciate what you can do, instead of what you can’t.

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