Just in time for Halloween

A big, fat pimple has sprouted on the side of my nose. Now all I need is the pointy black hat and broomstick and I'll fit that iconic Halloween stereotype.

I sure feel that way on the inside too.

I feel frustrated because I'm dissatisfied with my current job and not making much progress finding better options. The only ultimatium I've set for myself is: I must continue writing.

I wonder how stupid it is to keep my options so limited.

I have all these conflicting thoughts, and, as always I give in to insecurity and start asking people what they think I should do. This inevitably irritates me though, because I want to do what I want to do, not what you think I should do. Or at least so I tell myself. The truth is I don't know what I want to do, but I don't want you to tell me what to do. Until I get really frustrated and then I'll need advice. Except by then I'll be so full of rage I'll have your head on a stake at "hello" and tell you to stop running my life.

This is pretty much my cycle. Yeah. I need to do something else. Make me forget how unforgivably stubborn I can be.