If I met myself, I probably wouldn’t be friends with myself. Not that I think I am a dick or anything. I am just kind of weird and not great company.

Lately I have been stuck in a bit of a head hole. I have been working a lot of late shifts which means less time with the family, and more time to think.

It keeps me up for a few hours on most nights. They aren’t disturbing or sad thoughts or anything. Just.. thoughts. Problems and situations I guess. Stupid shit that is probably easily fixable if I just got off my scrawny ass and attempted to to something about it.

One of the more pervasive thoughts I have is ‘what is my next move’. Roughly two years ago I shifted jobs and started down a path of self discovery and growth. That came to and end pretty recently and in a way, I am back where I started. I don’t want to say that it was a ‘Grass is always greener’ situation. That makes it sound like I tried it and hated it, and that’s not the case. I loved it for the most part. A better way to word it might be ‘Reality is rarely the same as you might imagine it to be when you are feeling confident and invested in something’. I guess they mean the same thing maybe. Maybe I am trying too hard to sound like I know what I am talking about.

When I started that journey I had a clear direction in mind. That was what I wanted to do, I had a path planned out and if I followed it long enough something would happen. Now that I have had to take a step backwards, I cant seem to pick a fucking direction to move forwards again.

Every single night I get in to bed and weigh up my options. I try to analyse my priorities and figure out which step is the most in line with them. I compare the odds of success and failure and consider which direction might benefit my self and my family the most in the long run. It goes on for a few hours every night, only stopping when I get up to eat a monte-carlo like some lanky cupboard gremlin skulking through the house at 4:00am trying not to make any noise so it can shove biscuits down its gob.

It is like some kind of weird thought paralysis. I never end up coming to any kind of solid conclusion, and so every morning I wake up and do fucking nothing about anything. Not even small, easily achievable things. Nothing. It then gets to the next night and the present me looks back at the me the day before and just thinks about what a fucking peanut he was.

But the thing that’s kind of fucked up is these problems aren’t even real. As far as day to day life goes, things are actually pretty good. I enjoy my job as much as anyone not working their dream job possibly could. Home life is great. I have come a long way from selling video games for cigarettes. There have been a couple of health scares but nothing that ended up being completely crippling or life threatening. There is absolutely no urgency to make a massive change right now. I am just working myself up about it because I feel like I am getting older heaps faster than I imagined I would. Like who still hasn’t got their shit sorted post 30?

I know what the solution is too. I need to work on my mental state before even attempting any sort of life shifting move now. Fix the lifestyle I am currently living. Stop putting off small shit and gluing myself to a computer screen every night once the family is in bed. Just do things. Anything at all. Stop ignoring the clearly visible issues standing directly in front of me, bent over with their pants down doing massive and loud farts directly in my face.

P.S. I just noticed this blog is getting sent to 474 readers. What the fuck, who are these people. I thought it was just my family and a bunch of people from work reading this. I appreciate you though, quiet randoms.