While at work today, I was moping and I might have realized just why that was so. I think I'm creatively under-stimulated— deprived, if you will. When I was younger, I was much more artsy. I played a few instruments. I drew a lot more than I do now. I wrote more. Lately, I haven't had nearly enough time to breathe, let alone do these things solely for pleasure, but I'm finding that I need these things in my life. Engineering school, at this fundamental point, is somewhat stifling to my imagination; I'm sure that it will get better... I hope. Until then, I need something to be proud of. I need creative accomplishments... or at least a stupid hobby. I want to learn to knit or crochet. To paint. I wish I could make gifts for my friends and family... I want to play the piano; that's something I've always thought I could be good at that. Maybe pick up the flute or acoustic again, like I used to so often do. I want to become an avid runner. Learn to do yoga, or tai chi. I want to keep a garden... or at least keep a plant without killing it. I want to read more; read every book I keep eying at the library, read books that have been recommended to me for years, read things that will surprise me, disturb me, enthrall me. I want to volunteer at animal shelters like I used to. I want five cats. I want someone to love and love me.

So, contrary to what I posted earlier, I guess I do know what I want. I don't know if I'm going for what I want anymore... I really need to think about it and I'll admit that I've avoided it. I've avoided a lot of things and a lot of thoughts and it needs to stop.