Life is a weird journey. It takes you places. Sometimes it takes you to a random coffee shop where you sit at a wobbly table and drink an iced chai that you bought out of pity.
How is it, you ask? It’s not bad, a little heavy on the cinnamon, but that’s not surprising at this point. But enough of your questions, back to the task at hand. I have something to talk about. What I want to talk about is my work. What do you do? Ugh, hate that question. I make shit. Does that work? No? Fine, I make shit with computers. That’s the best you’re going to get.
The problem with my work is that there is so much of it. I’m doing nothing but work. I take on so much that it’s all I do. The worst part is that I think I love it. So here I am, chugging extra cinnamon, and wobbling away at my laptop.
My therapist thinks I’m too preoccupied with what I don’t want in life instead of what I do want. That made me realize two things. 1) I should be more meaningful in my decisions and 2) I should find a new therapist.