It's the waiting...

I think I now have about 20 applications in the pipeline. I fear that I won't get a bite. I fear that I haven't done enough here in one of the few oasis's in the abyss that is Illinois to have anybody of importance even take a look at my resume. I am so fucking bored, and all I can do is just wait it out. The waiting is draining me, in addition to putting me in a foul mood most of time. Where the fuck am I going? What is next on the docket? What lies ahead? It's really getting to me. I pause in trying to begin a life down here. I don't want to get close to anybody. I don't want to start anything up. I plan on ending this chapter, right? What's the point? Nobody has given me any reason to stay, really. Their arguments are easily counter-argued. I take that as my mind being made quite up. It's time to go. That's what I tell myself everyday. And, something always comes up that reminds me of that fact, too! I love my friends here... But, two years ago, I left some friends behind. It's a Catch-22......

So, as I think about directions, I am very reminded of that Simon and Garfunkel song... "The Boxer." The lyrics go as follows... at least the relevant part:

"Now the years are rolling by me
They are rocking evenly
And I am older than I once was
And younger than I'll be, but that's not unusual.
No, it isn't strange
After changes upon changes
We are more or less the same
After changes we are more or less the same

Li la li...

And I'm laying out my winter clothes, wishing I was gone, goin' home
Where the New York City (Middle of Illinois) winters aren't bleedin' me, leadin' me, goin' home

In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him
'Til he cried out in his anger and his shame
I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains
Yes he still remains

Li la li...

(End of Song)

And, the opportunity to leave hasn't even surfaced... and it seems so far away.... It's really gotten a hold of my thoughts. Most times it is all I can think about. So, what if I can't find a new gig? What if? I soooo want a change. I want to go back to being little old me. I miss me... I feel like I've gotten mixed up in the quagmire...... SHIT! I know, this sounds like a bunch of useless rubbish. I sound like I am whining (I am just getting my thoughts down so the world can see... It, well, it makes me feel better... chances are I will return to this blog, read it, and say, "FUCK! What the fuck!?!?! Joe, you idiot? What were you thinking?????" And, then remove it hoping nobody saw it). I should clearly state that my location isn't all that bad. There are some good things. I have met some really good people (and some people that make me scratch my head in complete wonder --- but, you get that anywhere). The thing is, I am not convinced that I belong here. I have always told friends, "Once a burbanite, always a burbanite." You can't get it out of your blood. I really enjoyed bopping around Chicagoland when I was there... Actually, I still enjoy bopping around Chicagoland when I go there (across the "ABYSS"... across the endless amount of farmland and nothingness). Right now, I have nothing, other then my original plan.... come here, get experience for two years, move on. Since that's all I've really got in terms of plan, I might as well see it through... right or wrong... And, (my sister laughed at me for this), I want to return, eventually, to the world of Academia and get my Masters in History.... Why not? It's something... and that opens even more doors. AND, I may become so educated, I won't be able to communicate with anybody!?!?! Talk about loneliness. But, what the fuck? What's yet another piece of paper on the wall from a university... I've got three... and three is a crowd. Four... That's a party!

Later