Choices and chances

Ya know what? I don't want to be responsible any more. Or reliable. I want to be able to say I'm going to do something and then not do it, just cuz I don't want to. I want my parents to quit relying on me to come when called and do what is asked of me. I want to stop being the one who takes care of schedules and notes and wake-up calls and who's doing what, where, and when.

But at the same time, I don't know where I'd be without those things. The caretaker instinct in me is strong. So is the will to make other people happy. So I do what I'm told. And most of the time I'm happy to do it. But right now, it's frustrating the hell out of me. I want to spend this weekend here, not because I have plans, but because I'm sick of being busy.

I need to take a road trip or something. I need to get in the car and drive and not come back until I've found my destination. I used to have an insatiable wanderlust. I wanted to be everywhere, to travel and live and just keep going. I think that one bad year scared it out of me. I can't believe how... settled I've become. A problem of inertia, I guess. Wow. That's sad.

So maybe I'm broken again. Hell, maybe I really SHOULD go to Chicago for a few days before summer semester starts. Break me out of this dammed rut. And see a decent art museum for once. Catch an improv comedy show. Eat at midnight in a Greek diner. Take the train with the rest of the roiling masses of humanity. Yeah... might be a good idea.

We'll see if my desperation outweights my inner timidity.