There are a lot of things going on right now in the world and I suppose this little title could apply to the the various technologies that use fuel and internal combustion to run them. Damn, gas is getting expensive! This post is about a totally different subject, but what reason in hell were we buying Russian oil for when we could completely rely on our own source of oil but refuse to tap into it?
The internal combustion I am referring to is actually inside of me.
Someone said the other day said that they thought something was going on inside of me that maybe I hadn’t recognized or identified yet. They had noticed that my usual level of grumpiness had increased to a level I might not be aware of but that others were noticing. It was mentioned that perhaps it was my newfound age of 50, or maybe it was something at work, or maybe it was…nothing else was pointed out.
I said that I didn’t think that I was all that grumpy, at least not that I was aware of. It was news to me if people thought I was grumpier than normal.
As I thought about it a bit more through the day, I thought that maybe there was something going on. I don’t know if I have really put a finger on it yet. As I am thinking of where I am in life at the moment and current circumstances, I can see (or feel) that I am unsettled. I am finding myself frustrated with everything that has to do with my current situation. Daily life has become a chore and finding joy in places that one would think it could be found just isn’t providing it. Instead, those places are kinda killing the joy.
As such, there may be a little internal combustion going on as I am trying to keep a lid on the unhappiness, the joylessness, the irritability, the frustration, the distaste for my current state. It’s not that I want to tear everything down, torch it to the ground, or start completely over. It’s just when I look around me, I don’t know how I got here and I didn’t envision myself here, and I don’t want to really stay here. Does that make sense?
Call it a mid-life crisis? Nah, I don’t think so. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. I don’t think it is.
The internal combustion inside of me is keeping me moving (hopefully in a positive direction) but the fire in me sometimes gets rather dim when I am tired of being the rather responsible one. It gets tiring being the one who carries everything on his shoulders and keeps the plates spinning and keeps the wagon train headed in the correct direction. The one who hold it all together, all the time, every time.
Maybe I am just burned out on life right now.
My engine isn’t running at it’s prime, that’s for sure.
Perhaps I am just one cycle from failure, explosion, or implosion.