I'm back. Again. Twice.

If I'm writing again it's Bukspot's fault (see recommended reading). Nothing like the threat of having your blog be linked to someone else's to give you the kick in the pants you need to start writing again.

So another fall is upon us and I am terrified. Fall has always felt like a time of new beginnings even though most living things are dying and/or getting ready to hibernate. The problem is that I don't have a new beginning this year. Last year I was knee-deep in the election and had no time to think about what to eat for dinner, let alone what I was doing with my life. This year I have been contemplating and desperately trying to come up with a plan. I know that sometimes "the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry" and "that life is what happens when you're making other plans," but those platitudes aside, I at least need a direction. An inkling. An endgame, basically. But the truth is I don't.

I'm young enough that this shouldn't be the end of the world, and it's not, but I feel a little flighty. This is my second job and I don't even know if I can stick it out for a full year. Do I want to go back to grad school? Do I want to even continuing fundraising? I've been thinking a lot about Office Space recently. Ron Livingston's character says that if he didn't have to work for money he would do nothing with his time. That's kind of how I feel. I have no strong pull in any direction at this point, so I think I'd be down with doing nothing until I figure everything out. I also find myself fantasizing about winning the lottery and I know I'm way too young to be thinking like that.

Welcome back. Life's a bitch.