There always seems to be something nagging at me.
I look around and think that I’m on schedule. I’m doing what most people my age are doing. If I waste one night on beer, it’s okay. If I sleep for a day, I can catch up tomorrow. I don’t do either very often.
But beneath it all, almost like a biological imperative, something tells me that I should be doing more. I should be awake and reading and searching and writing and working . . . but I’m never sure exactly what it is I should be doing that I’m not. In all the reading and working and searching, what is it that I’m aiming for?
I have a wonderful girlfriend — a wife — and the best dog ever and a good job in a field I’m interested in and I go to school fulltime and I spend more time reading than in front of the television or computer (when I’m home), so why the nagging feeling that I’m not productive?
What is it that’s bothering me?