uh-hoh. its happening again. that overwhelming sense of dread, anxiety sweats, laying awake until all hours staring at the ceiling watching the fan go around. and around. and around. and around. this time im not going to able to hide under the covers with a bottle of red, a death cab album, some xanax and ride it out. oh no. this time its a biggun.

panic stations everyone, this is not a drill.

i get up, go to work, come home, eat, watch tv. lather rinse and repeat. day after day after fucking day, the cycle occasionally broken up by a hangover that could kick chuck norris’ arse and a thirsty bank account.

a LOT of self analysis happens in the midnight hours. am i fat? do i underachieve? is this REALLY the life i have carved out for myself? am i going to plod along and purely exist forever? i concluded my complete reluctance to grow up and embrace even the littlest smudge of maturity can be put down to the fact that i feel like im not going anywhere. i’ve hit the pause button on life and lost the remote the the couch cushions. if the whole world is moving in fast forward and im curled up in fetal position rocking myself back and forth in this nice comfortable rut i’ve carved out for myself, then why should i grow up? 

im craving adventure, anonymity and the unknown. no plans, no places to be, no responsibly. i’ve been so close to running away from everything - then sensible bianca steps in. you have bills. you have a steady job. you have a video store memberships with late fees and cafe loyalty cards. god dammit you’re just another 4 large double shot lattes away from a free 97% fat free muffin. fuck.

i could walk out of the door tomorrow, get hit by a bus and bleed out on the pavement. and what will they say at my funeral? i can just imagine it. ‘she never achieved what she set out to, and she died unsatisfied and unfulfilled’. fantastic - glad i wont be around for that thrilling eulogy. 

in this mundane existence im leading at the moment i feel like a robot with the emotion chip installed. i know i belong somewhere, but my love affair with the place i call home is like the classic relationship fade - we don’t return texts anymore, we only catch up for sex and i’ve started looking elsewhere for my thrills. if home is where the heart is, and my heart belongs somewhere else - in a destination unknown - then where the fuck DO i belong?

i want to grow old, my face thick with laugh lines, and a youth full of adventure under my belt. i want to my whole life to feel as satisfying as my body does after a big bowl of pasta and a bottle of wine. i want to be able to walk outside and see the night sky littered with stars. i want to be able to fit all my wordy possessions in a suitcase, sit in the sun and wonder where tomorrow is going to take me.

life is fleeting. im taking the bull by the horns. and if i start making plans while my sensible is out to lunch (god i hate that slut) then maybe when she gets back in, it’ll be too late to back out and the bags will be packed, set by the front door. i’ll probably give her ‘its not you, its me / i need some space to think about things / we moved too fast’ speech’.  and then i’ll have no choice but to throw caution to the wind and just do it.