I can't figure out why it is so utterly impossible for me to feel content. Sure, there are certain areas of my life I could improve on, but mostly I have nothing to complain about. I am also bothered by the fact that I can't seem to write anything decent anymore. Apparently there is a missing link or some sort of part of myself I need to discover in order to be successful. I am completely frustrated with myself at this point in time.
I can't make any new friends, the few that I have very rarely want to hang out(besides Amber of course: she's a good friend), I haven't found a place to live yet, and I need to find a hobby. (I just threw that last one in there for kicks)
Perhaps I am simply just irrevocably dull...that thought is quite bothersome, yet very well possible. Mostly though, I see that I am whining and my life is not so bad. I'll have some extra money in a couple of weeks(thanks MDS), I don't have to stay with my parents(thanks Jeff), and heaping piles of food are in my near future (thanks family). I suppose I have a lot more to be thankful for than I realized.
Maybe if I quit putting so much pressure on myself to meet new people and just do my own thing, it will happen eventually. I'm not sure about that, but I do need to figure out what "my own thing" is. I don't think anyone really believes in me, but that is also my own fault. I've never put all my effort in to one given thing. Perhaps if I focused all of my attention to one subject and devoted my time to becoming good at it, then I would feel satisfied and accomplished. Indeed...that only makes sense. I'm sure to everyone else that is common sense, but I am not the average thinker. (haha) Be that as it may, I still have no clue as to what I might devote all my time to. Writing is not an option because I would absolutely go insane attempting to write in all my spare time. I have entirely too much spare time.

Love,
Amanda