book

I wanted to write a book. So I wrote one. Then I felt no compulsion to do anything else with it. Maybe I will one day, and my book will still be there, waiting for me. I thought writing a book would make me want to get it published, to promote it, to go on speaking tours, but it didn't. I like public speaking, which is weird I know, but I like having a purpose and a thing to say instead of floundering my way through social situations.

I have felt purposeless for at least the past year, since Karl's appeal was finally approved with the VA. Even before that my purpose was murky - I was fighting the VA, but much of that is passive, waiting; I was raising kids, but a lot of that is passive too, or mindless, sitting around while they are in school, waiting; I am a youth advisor at our church, but even that comes in fits and spurts of activity - most of my days were spent watching tv, running errands that had no urgency, waiting for something.

Now that we're back in Texas, I'm finally back in school. I'm actually taking more than a full course load because I want to finish and be done and be able to do something. While I know life is about the journey, not the finish line, it is about a journey, not day after day sitting around the house with nothing to do. I have volunteered with my kids' schools, with Meals on Wheels, with the public library, but even those positions were occasional and meant to fill my time more than they were to fill my needs.