Hump day thoughts

I was tired last night. So tired in fact, that I fell asleep while watching a documentary about the Iraq War on PBS. Along with the TV, I switched off the control freak in me, and settled into bed. I hardly ever allow myself more than 6 hours of sleep. Of course the mobile rings the second I slip into a comfortable state of unconsciousness. Grunt, sigh, grunt, click. 30 seconds later I'm lying face up, then on my right, then left, up again. I can almost hear the minutes tiptoe past. I try to think about sheep, work, vacation, and what to wear to work the next day. And I'm filled with evil thoughts about the untimely caller. God damn it. More tossing, kicking at the quilt, plans to work overseas – shhhhh. I wake up this morning, still thinking evil thoughts. I snooze the alarm, steal someone else's 15 minutes - the very golden pulses stolen from me the night before. I brace myself for a busy day. One of linking cells to endless spreadsheets, admiring from a far at the new girl, and looking forward to morning coffee, then lunch, and idle mid-afternoon chats. We talked about plans and fulfilling hopes, about traveling, buying land, and making money. I am beginning to feel an urgent need to whip up a goal. Something short-term, something to look forward to, work towards, feel excited about, save money for, make come true. I need to get off my inertia-ed arse and make semi grownup plans. I need to find what I want for myself, and make it happen. I've never craved for much - because things always seemed to just fall into place. Or I somehow stumbled into the right spot. I need to feel passionate enough about something. Enough that it hurts if I can't have it. Back in the day New York City did it for me but I was not accepted into the program. It certainly felt right. Walking down Madison Ave alone, in my Kakis and sport coat, I remember thinking that I hadn't been this happy in a long time. I am rarely happy when alone. Content maybe, but seldom skippy-lala happy, in fact I can think of the last time I was that happy. I don't care that I'll not be able to afford house (I could probably afford a new car, but not the parking fees, nor the patience). I could forsake the fortnightly shopping and live with a monthly budget. Live away from home? Live away from Pittsburgh - That I'm not sure. I don't know how Anthony did it when he first left Pittsburgh for Las Vegas or KC when he left for Atlanta but if they both have taught me one thing is that they both have prospered after leaving the rustbelt that is Pennsylvania. I was so afraid, so sublimely ignorant. Having endured the loneliness of most of my life, occasional helplessness, not to mention the dusty carpets, I find it hard to marshal enough courage to really break free and go for it. If the opportunity presents itself again in Florida could I do it all over again but this time say YES? I know it's what I'll be thinking about in bed tonight.