The Itch

I've caught some sort of midwinter itch. It makes me ambitious, want to take on more, challenge myself in some way. Perhaps I'll apply for that casual position at the women's health centre on graham. My skills at work could use some building, but at the point I'm at they'd probably choose other people to train further first. ... Or maybe I simply need some stimulation of the mind. A class at university...literature maybe.
So hard to make up my mind.

So much time and so indecisive in its use.

I wish I still wrote, but I don't feel inspired the way I used to. Watching James write is refreshing, but at the same time it brings a twinge of envy that he can bring all these ideas to life on paper while my mind sits, stale as month old bread. It's only a matter of time before mold turns it rancid.

I've stopped worrying about accomplishing set goals of life in predetermined time frames. But now and then I wonder where I'll be in five years. Mostly I just want to use my time well.

That brings me back to the beginning. I have an itch, and it needs scratching.