Can't claim the title, it's from a classic song by Poor Old Lu and old favorite of mine. I've always been a sucker for witty lyrics. Okay, maybe not always. I've listened to plenty of drivel to be certain, not to mention all those songs that I even semi-sing along with, but haven't a clue what I'm saying, or what they're saying, or what it would mean even if I did understand what they're saying. It actually gets even funnier when you combine hard to decipher lyrics with non-native English speakers. The Corrs song "Leave me breathless" just might turn into "leave me Bradley"... you just never know.
But that's all quite beside the point. Like I said, I like those lines that make me think more deeply and spin me into thoughts of my own. Back in the day when I was an aspiring artistic e-mail writer, I enjoyed incorporating the lyrics of whatever I was listening to into my letters. I did cite them, no copywrite infringement or anything, but I found it odd how often they were able to express exactly what I was trying to say but somehow coming up short with.
So as I was sitting here in my parent's living room on a Sunday afternoon I had this line flutter into my head and realized it really does suit the mood of my recent days. I won't go into a full break down of all this song could mean, but more just how it hits me at the moment. Right now I sorta feel like I'm stuck in the midst of this sea of possibilities with no idea which way to turn or what to do or how to achieve ANY of it. I love the life I've been blessed to live, the experiences I've been able to have, all the trappings of what has come. But when I have to write out a resume I can see why people might balk a bit at wanting to employ me. My work experience is not only spread across the board of varieties, it's also spread across the globe. My transience is evident as my jobs go from CA to HK to OR to AK to CZ and here I am in ID. Come again? I've been able to experience so much that I'm not suited for anything in there here and now of every day real life.
The truth is, I would love to just be a novelist, to feel content spending hours typing away the ideas in my mind, knowing there was an audience out there chomping at the bit to read what I've come up with. But life is not predictable like that. So instead, I sit here stressing that I can't even get a fresh out of High School job because, in a sense, there's just too much to me.
I've been stateside for a little over four months now, and I've already hit the flee stage. This is where I start trying to figure out what I can do next to get mobile. I watch "House Hunters International" and dream of exotic locations. I have dreams about Hong Kong and the life I lived there, and I can hardly bring myself to even think of my pictures from Czech and the time I spent traipsing about Europe, hanging out in castles and cafes all chalk full of culture.
Then again, there's that part of me that's just begging to...dare I say the irritating word... nest (to be whispered in a hushed voice). I've been in an unsettled state of dwelling since July. And even before that my cozy world was invaded for the school year by a sort of monster that made it impossible to feel at home in my own home. I'm ready for a place where I can put my pictures on the walls, and organize my knickknacks from a life of world traveling and make my statement.
I need focus, balance, purpose, all those good things. I need (ugh) a job. Something to kick me out of the slump and re-energize me. After all, there are all these stories that need to be told, and I'm the one who's meant to tell them.