What I want to do...

I've been conflicted lately. Should I go to graduate school right away? Should I work for a few years? Should I just take a year off to rediscover myself? I've been living so long to please other people that I don't know who I am anymore. I don't have any dreams. Not big ones, anyway.


And that's when I realize that I don't like to sit still. Well, I am okay with literally sitting still, but not so much in the figurative sense. I always need to be doing something with my life. I always need to be on a trajectory. It might be because I believe being still or taking time off is equivalent to being a loser. I worry about what others will think.


I worry too much about what others will think. What I want to do is just live in a little cottage tucked away in the countryside somewhere. Maybe England. Maybe France. Maybe I should live near the ocean in Australia. Yes. Live there in my cozy cottage with my vegetable garden and goats. Live there and write and paint and play piano all day. Only go see people once or twice a week. Go swimming in the ocean. Take solitary walks. Brush snow off of tree branches and carve lines of poetry into the sides of my house. Fold a thousand origami cranes and hang them from the ceiling. Make stained glass windows. All kinds of stuff.


Oh. And bake. Bake lots of things. Cheesecakes and pastries. Miniature eclairs and giant, towering red velvet cakes. And sew. Sew night gowns and ball gowns and handkerchiefs. Write children's books. Become a storyteller. Do some amateur filmmaking. Read until I fall asleep in my armchair. Build things. Out of legos. A lego stairway to heaven. Make wind-up clocks and craft kitchen tables. Carve headboards and rocking chairs. Play cards.

But maybe later. Right now, I have to go on and do something with my life first.