Five short little years ago, I was able to make decisions. Wanna run a marathon? Sure! Wanna switch careers? Sure! Wanna take up a new hobby? Sure! Wanna move to a small dumb island, or a big dumb city? Sure! If I blindfoldedly threw a dart on a map, I probably would have packed my shit up and moved wherever it landed.
But these days, even the littler decisions are sorta wrought with implications, invented or otherwise. I can’t decide if I should run another marathon. I can’t decide if I should sign up for sewing classes, or learn a foreign language. And so I definitely can’t decide what I want to be when I grow up.
Never mind that, by anyone’s calculations except mine, I am grown up.
What the heck?