Day 3 of feeling sick. Actually, I think I'm getting better. It got worse but now I think I'm getting better. I'm breathing more clearly.

I am currently bored out of my skull. I am looking forward to working nearly every day next week. At least I'll have something to do. There just is not enough to fill up my day. I miss my sister, too, since she is house-sitting. I sit on my butt and wonder, what the hell am I doing with my life? What kind of career do I want to have? Where do I want to go? Do I want to have a family somewhere along the line? I don't know. Is it stupid not to know, not to plan these things out far in advance? I don't know either.

Sometimes I dream about going back to Chicago. I don't know why, but I just liked it there. Such a cool place. I want to go back someday.

I think about getting old. I'm bored now. This is what retirement must be like. I have zero dollars saved for retirement right now. That is awful. I'm 25. I need to get a job. Ever since I turned 25 I feel old. I saw a tennis player on TV yesterday, the announcer said, she's 25, that's getting older for a tennis player. And to me, 25 means you no longer have that look of youth. You are a fully fleshed-out adult, you can't pretend you're 18 anymore. People wouldn't believe you anyway. You can tell, like I could tell with that tennis player.

Being sick really brings me down.

It bothers me that I can't say for certain what I'm doing in life, at least not with a completely straight face. Not without feeling like it's a big joke, yeah, getting another master's, wonder what I can do with this one? I always come back to this, why do I have so little faith in this world, so little faith in myself that I can make a difference? Why does everything so damn depressing to me, so damn futile that it's not worth doing?

Sometimes I compare myself to people I see on the news, people, say, in Iraq who live in violence every single day or who don't have enough food to eat and it is just crazy, here I am living in this place that is mostly peaceful, with lots of opportunities, and they have nothing. Why? I didn't earn my place here. Why was I fated to live here and not there? I drive myself crazy with the guilt, I think about it all the time and it is the reason I try not to complain ever about my station in life. In a way it's also why I try to live simply, not pile on possessions. I thank God for everything I have and maybe I need to work more on doing all I can with what I have. Maybe the sin is not in having all this, it's in not using it to help others in some way.

The people I respect most are those who live out their beliefs. Often I feel like I've never believed in anything strongly enough that I felt compelled to live it out. But that needs to change.