Do I Contradict Myself?

Very well, then I contradict myself.

Haven't written in ages because there didn't seem anything to say about nothing happening. I feel like I am living a cliche: middle-aged, overweight, stagnating. If I had passionate pursuits, I can't remember what they were.

How does one find passion? I don't think it will present itself, I am sure I need to go after it. Yet I live the life of an isolate, apparently by choice although it doesn't seem that way to me -- but how else to explain it?

That said, it is easier here in Charlotte than it was in Alameda. I hated our apartment complex so much and I didn't feel particularly safe there. Here it is pretty and, although my bike helmet was just stolen from our front porch, I still feel safer.

Same struggle, different year. On one hand I am thoroughly used up by parenting. Each day I try not to lose all patience and most days I lose. Petty annoyances get disproportionate energy. Boredom with the quotidian chores, errands, task. On the other hand -- "I contain multitudes." There is so much of me untapped: desire to help, mindpower, skills that don't get play. The dream deferred that hasn't exploded.