I just don't know sometimes.
....Supposedly, I'm on vacation. But I just signed up to work tomorrow, because work is my crack.
....I've been reasonably productive on this vacation. Finalized a good part of my movie, wrote a good chunk of this screenplay. The problem is, whenever I start to get productive, I realize that I should be doing this all the time. I should be writing, shooting, obsessing, hustling, doing the things that ambitious people do. Doing the things that people who will make another movie in their lifetimes do.
....Work, my personal angst, mashed potatoes or french fries....they're all just distractions really. Distractions that together comprise a well-rounded sane life, free of artistic delusions of grandeur.
....I don't know, for example, if I ever would want a child. I don't know if I'll ever learn a new skill. Although I definitely know how to procrastinate, I don't really know how to take a vacation. I don't know what the hell I am doing.
(disclaimer for the preceding angst: there are two people in my household getting married this week.)