Running Down a Dream

An ancient proverb tells us that patience is a virtue—and if this is true, then I am pretty darned virtuous.  My whole life is a waiting game, and I never advance any closer to an end goal.  And yes, I know that life is a destination, not a journey, but mine is neither.  I have increasingly realized over the past year that I have no concept of fun, or relaxation, or hobbies, and part of this is because I am just too poor for them.  Hobbies require some kind of income, unless you’re hiking (and even that requires the money to buy proper shoes).  I have also realized that if I ever find a real job, I won’t have time for fun.  I’ll be too busy working.  At this point, though, I don’t guess it matters.  I am single and hardly surrounded by a plethora of friends—nearly everyone I am close to lives miles and miles from here—but it would just be nice to make money.  It would also be nice to be married and have children before I grow old and die—but that requires money, too.  I guess writing is the cheapest hobby I could imagine, but the stress of my life has pushed me into a period of writer’s block.