No, you don’t actually have any great loves in life.

I realize that title is mileading. This blog survives solely on misleading readers into thinking that they’re about to read something deep and traumatic about me.

In reality, there is nothing deep about me. Traumatic? I saw my best friend get her foot almost run over by her father when we were like 15. ALMOST. ALMOST!?

See, misled, again.

What this post is actually about, is that, I saw my friend earlier in the week, and we had drinks and we talked about school (we were classmates last semester, now he is an entire semester behind me because this bozo ((that’s me)) thinks it’s ok to take 12 years to do grad school) and things other than school, but a lot about school and what we want to do and so on.

He has a vague idea of what he wants to do when he is said and done. Something with geography and informing the morons who live around us about geography and how not to look like imbecile douches. I, on the other hand, have not even a vague idea. Of what I want to do, and how not to look like a douche.

He asked if dance was the thing I loved. I might have stared at him blankly, or more likely, I made a horrified face that implied I had no idea what he was talking about, or that he was speaking French to a non-French speaker.

I didn’t really have a good answer at the time. Maybe my brain is permanently damaged, from all the drugs I haven’t done. I don’t know. When did I start sucking at being a person with interests and hobbies and great loves?

It’s subconsciously bothered me for the past 2 days.

I came to it on my way to work this morning. It took me roughly 48 hours to come to this, and it isn’t even that complex of a situation so. Ugh. I’m so disgusted. Anyway.

No, I don’t actually have one great gigantic love for one thing in my life. I mean, for people, yes, I have a great gigantic love for a lot of people, like my family and my dog and my near and dear friends who have been there thick and thin and return my phone calls. Is there one activity that I do that I think I was put on this earth to do and I feel so incredibly good that I just want to kneel down on the ground and stick my face in the grass and yell “OH GOD, THANK YOU FOR PUTTING ME ON EARTH TO DO THIS ONE THING!!!”? That sentence was a question. And the answer is NO. No, I don’t.

I have a lot of things I like to do. Not one of them completes me in a way that I would find fulfilling if I suddenly dropped the other things out of the equation. Coincidentally, dance plus photography plus graphic plus knowing how to sew and liking making things makes my world pretty spectacular, but if I was just doing one of those things, I don’t think I’d be very happy. In fact, I hated dancing 5 days a week for several hours each day. I wasn’t cut out to do that shit. I was cut out to be an adult with a job that gets to switch it up, and to have several side projects. I love being busy and feeling purposeful and not being a guru in any way, shape, or form. Though… let’s be honest. Everyone wants to get in on my Photoshop knowledge because I can actually Photoshop faces into photos like this.

Even though I have this wonderful combination of things that I like to do which equals loving the versatility of my life, does that mean I never have Debbie Downer moments?

Have you met me? For every uplifting 30 seconds of my life, there’s another 5 minutes following filled with sardonic commentary. Don’t insult me.

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