The past repeating

There is an individual who is who I was three years ago, two years ago…hell even a year ago. I want to wish her luck and cheer her optimism and ambition. I want to tell her that yes, it does make a difference that you want this more than anyone else and that you feel your were born to do this.

But all I feel is jaded and skeptical.

Her confidence makes me want to scoff.

And I hate that I let repeated rejections beat that optimism and passion out of me. I never wanted to become this…resigned.

Life is a journey and our destinations along the way aren’t always the ones we planned on. I always thought finding the towns with names like Virginville, wandering into museums dedicated to random obscure topics, and stumbling upon the ruins of an old glass factory to be the best discoveries on road trips. Which is kind of where my life is right now. A detour off the mapped route that ended up stumbling across a few treasures.

But I can’t help but wonder how far the detour will take me. There is so much to do in the next week to get my apartment situation straightened out. But once it is, I owe it to myself to at least keep applying to social work jobs in the area.

I am content now, but I know myself. Sort of. Whether it is an addiction to new beginnings, a compulsion to always achieve more, or simply the resignation beginning to slip away…I know that someday soon I will start to get that itch to be doing what I was feel I was born to do. As much as I enjoy the wine bar, it isn’t what I was born to do.