Caterwauling

A picture of my future?

I *~*heart*~* it!!!

Via God Awful Wedding Crap, via Tiff.

Some days, do you ever just feel like a bona fide fraud? That maybe you’re a complete lunatic to want more, more, more from life when you can’t even manage to make work what you’ve already gotten? That how dare you even want to make some sort of a shift because you can’t manage to juggle or solve the stuff that’s going to help you to figure out other things?

On the other hand, if you’re having a hard time adapting, can’t things just be custom-tailored to fit you? Maybe I’m a Gen Xer who’s closer to the Gen Y “make it so I want to be a part of it” mentality, but oftentimes I feel like I’m trying to force the proverbial square into the proverbial circular hole. (Although, dare I say that I don’t care *what* goes in the hole, just so long as it’s something!) 😉

I have a funny feeling I’m going to have an “A-ha!” moment in years to come and my older self is going to tell my current self, “Duh — and you thought you had to figure it out all by yourself. All you needed was an example and some help and reassurance.” Then again, the only part of aging to which I look forward is getting to that Zenlike state where I realize that I did my best and all that extra stressing out really didn’t matter.

In the meantime, I’ll try hard not to develop ulcers as I wonder whether I’m really missing the point because I just can’t aim or because it seems like it won’t stop moving.

I am exactly at the edge that I reach every few months when it feels like I accidentally swallowed a stiletto, which is usually assuaged (temporarily) by escaping from the world. But how does a girl escape to some exotic locale on a homeless person’s budget?

I need a change of scenery. I need sunshine and daylight and an absolute lack of being chained to a computer. I want absolutely no feeling of urgency to do anything unless it’s to make it to a facial in enough time to go catch a brilliant sunset somewhere. I want to leave a “goodbye, cruel world” note on the door and retreat into my own head for awhile.

So, where do you go for respite when you’re on the broke side, that’s safe to travel to alone and would actually be memorable (in a good way)? Beaches are OK (although I burn and don’t swim), but seeing kitchy shit like giant balls of twine and other oddball landmarks is NOT my idea of fun.

I would just hate for yet another decade summer to go by as unremarkably as the last. I can’t keep accepting this ho-hum life I’ve fallen into, or it will never change for good. Even local-yokel tourist traps like Ocean City or Virginia Beach are on the list (definitely in the budget, anyway). If I ask Calgon to take me away, where should I ask it to go?