Passion.

When I was growing up, teachers and school staff and other adults would ask, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

I’ve always had two answers. Either I wanted to be happy, or I didn’t plan to live long enough to grow up.

So now, here I am 40 years old and applying for receptionist jobs because I still don’t know what I want to do with my life. I don’t really have any goals or aspirations. I see people with drive and motivation and I have no clue where they got that. I’ve tried so many things but nothing grabs my interest. I have to force myself to write something here every day. Nothing I do seems to have any real meaning to me. I just kind of exist to suffer.

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