You can't have everything....

Besides, where would you put it?

I have the urge to write; the beehive of my mind once more scoffs at the prospect of a night's sleep. I want to write about everything, and yet nothing. Both are impossible goals. How often have I set myself unattainable targets, and then been vaguely disappointed when I almost (but not quite) reached them?

Too many times, and 'vaguely disappointed' might be a bit of a facetious understatement.

I can't have everything, but I find myself craving it. (Perhaps if I shoved it in the back of my closet...? We could reenact scenes from Narnia, it would be great...)

I just wish there was one thing I both enjoyed and was good at. Which doesn't necessarily imply I think I'm completely useless (despite the perceived opprobrium my hyper-critical judgment constantly attempts to place upon my self-image). Jack of all trades, master of none, as the saying goes.

I can't decide what I want to do with myself; I tend to have an aptitude and affinity for a disgusting range of activities. But to actually do anything worthwhile with any of them would require dedication and effort; a combination of laziness, fleeting impulsiveness, and a dread of failure, conspire against me.

Things I used to enjoy doing now fill me with despair; the reasons for my enjoyment, my desire to do them, have all gone, leaving a void that I'm struggling to fill (not least in my bank account). Where to move on to now? How to do so? How to explain doing so....?

Buggrit. Give me everything, with cream and mocha butter-icing on top.

My apologies for the obscurity of this post. Here, have some Corrs to make you feel better.