Tater tots & unsettling thoughts.

It happened again. That unsettling feeling. There I was, minding my own business. Eating some tater tots. Listening to people groan about monotonous details. And it hit me. It does this. 

I was daydreaming of leaving. Or getting up from the table, leaving them behind and finding a new adventure. In this city. Somewhere new. Moving. Packing up. Saying "see ya later Cincy, I'm going on vacation." 

Then in that same moment, my mind switched. What am I doing here? Why do I hang out in these settings? Are we actually having fun? Am I living? I've been out of college for over a year now and have no "big girl job". Should I leave? Should I just live with my parents forever? That's what people used to do... Live with their families, not separating. Do I actually need to live on my own right now? I think people do that to mature and figure out who they are. What do you do when you're 23 and know who you are? But don't know what the next move is? 

I get so frustrated with myself. I know my mother does too. I get to overwhelmed and underwhelmed all at the same time. I know that I have the potential to do whatever the hell I want. I've had some experience, I've dabbled, but what's my next career move? What am I going to do? I don't care about making a ton of money. Ideally, I don't want some 9-5 desk job either. I'm too creative. Too restless. Too much of an idealist. Yes, that's what I am. An idealist. I have these thoughts and dreams and aspirations. But I have little motivation. I have little to work for or towards. I sound like such a millennial. Dang it. Who am I kidding? We're all trying to "live". But what is living? Is it just the simple act of breathing? Or is there some checklist that we're suppose to be completing? I admit that sometimes I hear about others' lives my age and think about what I'm doing. Or what I'm not doing. But I also know that I am my own person, and will not compare myself to others. 

This world is strange. So many contradictions and prearrangements. So many unspoken rules and ideals. 

I don't know what to do. I'm back at square one. Just like I was before college, trying to pick my major. (My dear friend Matt & I were just talking about this.) Well, now I have two degrees and not a lot to show for it. I don't discount my education. I don't discount my experiences. I've interned places and networked. But here I am. Working part-time. Freelancing here and there. And that's okay, I think? 

Am I a writer? A photographer? A publicist? A stylist? A social media strategist? A promoter? A saleswoman? A singer? 

I need guidance again. Or a sign. Or some sort of proper motivation. I need to get my mojo back. Everyone knows it. 

Maybe I need a change of scenery. But each time I leave Cincinnati, I come back loving her even more. It's a shame, really, how much I love her. 

Just as I wrote that, I pictured myself being a novelist. I pictured myself as Fitzgerald. Maybe that's what I should do. Write. 

For now, I sleep.