I Have Absolutely No Fucking Idea What I'm Doing

I would like to formally announce that I have absolutely no fucking idea what I'm doing with my life right now.

None. Zero.

My brain has apparently resigned without submitting a notice period.

And honestly? I don't blame her. 😂

I don't know what the future has for me. I don't know where I'll be.

I don't know what I'll be doing. I don't know what happens next.

At this point, my five-year plan is basically: “Let's see what happens.”

Very strategic. Very mature.

Harvard will be calling any minute now. 😂

The funny thing is, I've spent so much time trying to figure out what went wrong that I haven't had much energy left to figure out what comes next.

And now I'm standing here looking at my life like someone dumped a box of 5,000 puzzle pieces on the floor and casually removed the picture from the front of the box.

Good luck, bitch. Apparently this is character development.

Could've developed my character through a pottery class, but no.

Life chose emotional demolition. How thoughtful. 😂

I don't know if this mess is leading somewhere.

Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't.

Maybe one day I'll look back and finally understand why everything had to happen this way.

Or maybe I'll look back and say: “What the actual fuck was THAT?”

Honestly, both seem equally possible.

But if this mess is part of something bigger...

Fine. I'll walk through it. Slowly. One step at a time.

Even if some days the step is embarrassingly small.

Even if some days all I accomplish is eating something, answering one message, opening my laptop, or getting out of bed without conducting a three-hour philosophical debate with myself.

I'll take it. Because apparently survival doesn't always look heroic.

Sometimes it looks like: “Congratulations. You showered today.” 👏

Gold star. Employee of the month. 😂

I don't need to know the entire future right now. 

I just need enough light to see the next step.

And if there isn't any light yet? Fine. I'll keep walking in the dark.

Hopefully without walking directly into a wall.

I've done enough of that already. 😂

Maybe someday I'll understand that this wasn't the end of everything.

Maybe it was just the ugly middle. The chapter nobody wants to read while they're living it.

The part where everything is uncertain and nothing makes sense and you're basically improvising your way through your own life.

And maybe that's okay. Because I don't need to have all the answers.

I just need to keep moving. Slowly. Messily. Probably sarcastically. Possibly with coffee.

And definitely with several inappropriate thoughts about the universe's questionable management style.

If this is leading somewhere bigger...  

I'll get there. I don't know how. I don't know when.

I don't know what I'll find when I arrive.

But I'll keep walking until I can finally see the light at the end of this fucking tunnel.

And if the light turns out to be another disaster?

Well. At least I'll have something new to complain about. 😂

For now...

one step. Then another. Then another.  That's all I have. 

And apparently... that's enough.