Sold!

I feel like I sold my soul to the devil.

And for what, experience? Credentials? Training?

It doesn't matter why or for what because I am here now, wallowing in what I call a consistent stream of responsibility. I'm not complaining because I can't do it. I'm not complaining because I don't want to either. I like responsibility. It keeps me busy. I like being busy because I hate being idle. Otherwise, I could live being idle all my life and I wouldn't care if I went nowhere.

Here's the thing. I am ambitious. Admitedly, I am OC when it comes to things that I think will interfere with my usual routines; or with things that require a lot of patience, because it tests me until I'm ready to break away; or the things that I lack knowledge and interest in.

I have not an inkling of doubt that I have an attention span worse than a baby gnat's. Once my eyes gloss and glaze in the middle of a conversation or an activity, boom! Sorry, I'm out. Zoned out.

Anyway, enough segue.

I think I just needed to let this all out. I'm not sick of my responsibilities, don't get me wrong. Like I said, I like having responsibilities. Sometimes it just gets too heave for my arched back and my neck can't take the pain. Oh, but one thing that I love, though, are words. Thank God for words because they lift me up when I feel like everything has buried me deep into my stresses, insecurities, and doubts.

In a very strange way, I think that words buy me back from the devil. Piece by piece.