I started a new diet program where they actually deliver the food to your door every day in freezer bags. It's remarkably affordable and the food ranges from incredibly delicious to virtually inedible. I've been okay at sticking to it so far and this week I'm really clamping down and starting it for real, so I SHOULD be excited or at least relieved about that, but no.
A friend came over the other day (thursday to be precise) and we hung out for awhile and talked, and then watched Old School on DVD. While this was a pleasant experience I was surprised by how...disengaged I felt.
What I'm trying to get at is that I feel the cloud of depression sinking over me once more and I can't figure out why. There's nothing in my life that's going particularly badly and there's a bunch of stuff that's going pretty well, nonetheless I only feel alright when I am doing something escapist like watching DVDs or surfing the net or even just sitting back and thinking. I did some writing the other day and that was fine but when I tried to do reading for one of my classes....let's just say it didn't go so great.
I can't explain this feeling. Maybe it's that now that I've struggled through three years of college and some other random work stuff I'm discovering that my initial instincts were probably correct and I should try some creative endeavour, which does me the double disservice of making me feel like I wasted my time (although I really didn't because I learned quite a bit about psychology and politics during my pursuit of my two majors) and a sense of dread that I will attempt a creative endeavor and end up a bitter and angry failure. This is opposed to the route of law school and quite likely ending up a bitter and angry success which is not THAT much more appealing but has a better dental plan. This idea was further enhanced by spending time with Howard up in Maine. Here was a quite successful (he's no Johnnie Cochran but being the chairman of a mid-sized energy law firm in Washington probably puts him in the top 1% of both money and power) lawyer saying that if he had his life to live over he would have gone to Hollywood and made a go of it in the movie business. This coming from a guy who was an accounting major in college and, from everything he said, didn't really have a need to be creative. On the other hand his brother is a fairly successful radio personality so who knows, maybe he did have the urge in his youth and he regrets their not having joined together to form a cabal of Baldwinian (the acting brothers, not the James) proportions.
The more I think about it the more appealing the idea of dropping out of the honors program, possibly even dropping out of the poli-sci major (I'll still be perfectly able to graduate as a psych major) finishing college and then locking myself in a room upstate with nothing but a typewriter and a bottle of Jack Daniels (okay in my case Arizona Diet Green Tea, but the sentiment is the same) for a year becomes. I would make sure not to construct sentences as long and byzantine as that one too! Then I think about emerging after that year with four film scripts of no interest to anyone but myself and a severe case of dehydration (perhaps I should have brought more than the one bottle of Tea?) and suddenly the idea of speed reading Caroline Tolbert's book on direct democracy and retailoring my thesis proposal accordingly seems more attractive.
I should probably just go for it, it's really the most rational choice and yet and yet...I don't know. Isn't being a writer something for people who have faith in themselves?