I think I am having a quarter life crisis.
Yes, that sounds dramatic. No, I don’t care.
At least, by my calculations, having a quarter life crisis at 29 means I should live to 116 years old. Yay me.
I just want to write my book. But now that I finally have some time to do it, my brain has jammed and I am unsure I will ever unjam it.
I can’t even blame my day job. My work is challenging and rewarding but I rarely bring it home in my hands or in my head so it’s hardly the problem.
I’m compensating by rewatching Dawson’s Creek. It isn’t helping. Dawson, who is whiny, obnoxious, and definitely NOT my favorite character (marry me Pacey!), has unfortunately got his shit together more than I do. He can at least put together a script. Even if his latest is, as Jen puts it, “fluff”, he is able to at least conjure, craft and complete a whole story. Whilst wallowing over Joey for goodness sake!
Lately, I can’t even muster up a cursory list of character traits.
I can sort of blame other aspects of my personal life, aspects which I don’t wish to discuss here. But in my youth these personal crisis would be reason to write. Writing would help me escape.
But for now I am stuck in my head. Stuck in wallowing, thinking and feeling as though I will never be the writer I want to be.
…at least I have Pacey