Checkered Flag

[rinue]

Experiencing emotional problems. Again. Have diagnosed self with Full-Scale Burnout. [Note: link is worth reading for clarification.] Am worried that people will misinterpret diagnosis and believe I am a race-car driver. Believe I could be very sucessful race-car driver, but is forbidden by Patrick. Upon condsideration, think many of my emotional problems stem directly from not being a race-car drver. For example, getting dressed would be easier if my only choice was a corporate-sponsored unitard. Likewise, my helmet would be very authoritative; could also be used to smash things such as potatoes.

Moving away from the subject of race-car driving, am worried that life may be pointless. Not so much everyone's, but my own specifically. Without clear objective or purpose. Few promises of advancement on even an intellectual level. Am failure, probably. In addition, coping skills seem specious at best. Clear explanation emerges: objective must be not writing. Am dramatic success! Thinking of throwing in the towel and becoming a professor of something, precisely because I don't want to and therefore could not be disappointed.

[Addendum: Am, however, greatly heartened by reappearence of dear and surly friend.]

Comments

[rhys-k.livejournal.com]

Something about teaching Romie to wield swords and pointy objects scares me... or not so much teaching her how to (as she no doubt already knows), but giving her time to practice these impulses into honed reaction time. Methinks Patrick would be buying stock in band-aids after accidentally startling her too many times.

Emotional problems seem to run rampant in my friend circle... perhaps the human race at large, as well. Also seems to have suspicious tie-ins with governmental and societally dictated days of life advancement.