I'm stuck but being stuck is what makes you unstuck. I'm afraid of what unstuck is. Is death going to be my great unsticking? Am I so good at mediocrity that I'll persue it with vigor my whole life?

Larry B at work bought a car. A dark grey Mazda RX-8 with the two-toned black and red interior. I laughed out loud when I pulled into my parking spot, not with malice but that kind of happiness that just escapes from your lungs as a laugh. I ran up the stairs and I thought about shaking his hand but instead I stuck my head over the cube wall and said "Beautiful car, Larry, just beautiful". Larry smiled in his timid, quiet, unassuming way and said "thank you". Larry is looking for something and I don't think it was a car but he's trying. That's what made me run across the parking lot and smile, not the car. But Jesus, that is a beautiful car.

This wanting things does me the biggest disservice. Every day I log on to autotrader or ebaymotors and look at the cars I want. I read everything I could about the Deering Goodtime Openback banjo. Some days I don't feel like looking at the cars or the banjo and those days maybe I look for job postings. The knawing thing in the back of my brain reminds me I only started playing the banjo because I realized I was stagnant on the guitar but I want so badly to be good at something that I keep hoping to stumble across it and not have to invest so much time. I've got five years of computer experience that I would throw away in a heartbeat if something new came along that paid as well. Not because I'm bored, but because I don't feel I'm as good at it as I'd like.