Futility and Shit

As some of you may have inferred from my recent six or seven week hiatus, I have not been nearly as productive as I had hoped to be.

What frightens me is that this seems to be the story of my life.  I’m approaching my 27th birthday, and it’s really starting to weigh down on me that I am not only grossly overweight, but that I have no accomplishments to speak of.  I don’t have any published works, I don’t have a romantic interest, I don’t have an interesting, exciting, fulfilling, or well-paying job, and, possibly most painful of all, I have a serious dearth of friends.

Forgive me if I’ve been over this territory before; I’m too lazy to look back and see.

To put it succinctly, I have been in a rut for five years now, and I really need to get out of it; the problem is that I don’t know if I have the willpower necessary to do so.  I often feel like if I can change just one aspect of my life, the others will fall into place as well, but, for one reason or another, none of these issues seem surmountable for me.

I’m sorry for the tone of the post; I had originally planned a massive post touching on various things over the past months, but I’m feeling very melancholy tonight, and I don’t know what to do about it.  Once again, the story of my life.