Bored

I haven't written in a while. Problem is... well, I'm bored. Bored of just about everything. I have a lot to do, really, when I think about it. Tax, uni essay, play, all due in, oh, say, a month. There's also plenty of lovely things to do in Kinsale. I could go for a walk. I could take the bus to Cork and see the opening of the dragon parade. I could do so many things. But, I'm just bored. I think I'm massively bored of sitting in front of my computer, and, unfortunately, most of the 'useful' things (ie, those things that involve a deadline) I need to get done at the moment have to take place in front of the computer. AND I CAN'T STAND LOOKING AT IT ANYMORE.
I would like to talk to a human being. A real one. One that I can reach out and touch if the moment took me there. One that could pour me a cup of tea, share a joke.
Its not like I haven't seen people. I've been looking after little people all day. They occasionally let me pat their head, or hold their hand. I've also been speaking to grown-up people. I had a lovely weekend with a friend in Cork, after my producers meeting, we had a drink, dinner, another drink and then headed home and watched 'The X Factor' (which I am suddenly obsessed with. I even have a favourite. She's Irish, her name is Janet Devlin, and she's the best).
But, I don't know. It all just seems a little.... well, pointless. I made a big decision on the weekend. I was very excited about it, and more than a little terrified. But, then, life goes back to normal. Its just the same. I have to put in a lot of work for this new decision, and whilst it was inspiring on the weekend, now, it means just a lot more staring at computer screens, trying to figure out what to do next January.
Actually, you know, THAT'S what I'm bored of. I'm bored of worrying. I'm bored of thinking over every single bloody possibility in my head. I'm bored of constantly feeling that if I walk away from my computer for 2 seconds, I will miss the opportunity of a lifetime. I'm bored of thinking that if I dare to, say, sit down and read a book, to go for a walk, to write something in my diary, I will miss the one chance I have to figure out a direction for my life.
Things are getting desperate, my brain seems to think. Its starting to convince me I should lie about my age, that I should join ASIO, that I should write a novel, quick, do something, ANYTHING, significant, or if you can't figure out what to do, then, quickly, quickly, pretend your not as old as you are, because otherwise people will start to look at you funny, and begin to mutter things about you under their breath, when it turns out you're 3 years away from 30 and still have no idea how to get your life together.
So in that spirit, I'm going to back away slowly from the computer, walk as far away as possible, take my book to a little cafe and read it for as long my paranoid brain can stand to be away from the internet.
If you look at my computer screen, you will get an idea of where my head is at. 8 tabs open. 3 social media sites - Twitter, Facebook and Linkedin. Gmail is open. A website with grants named 'Aim for the Stars', a membership application for studio space, and a website for a street performance ('Get Involved'). I'm flicking between them all constantly, willing one of them to change, for an email to appear, a message or post to arrive, for one website to suddenly hold the answers to all my questions, which path to take, for the mist and fog to finally lift and it to all make sense.
Google, you once held so much promise with your predicative text, your 'I'm Feeling Lucky' button and your amusing daily changes to your design. You promised to understand me, to brighten my day, to make sense of the crazy world out there. But, I don't feel lucky. I don't feel understood. I feel confused. I feel overwhelmed. There's too many things to look at. They're changing all the time. I might have missed the really important one. I have missed it 1 month ago when I didn't have Twitter. I may have missed 4 years ago when I didn't use tabs. I may have missed it 5 years ago when I didn't have Facebook. And the top website response you've given me to 'What Should I Do With My Life?' is a book by a person called Po Bronson. I don't want to sound ungrateful and predjudiced Google, but I don't want to take advice from a person called Po. They sound like a Teletubby.

Po Bronson suggests following your dreams