Alright, I'm not sure what happened. I guess I stopped being miserable for a while.  Anyway I'm back to it now and as gleeful as ever.

All I've ever wanted was the whole world and to eat it too.  Now I'm going to have to settle for good health and a better attitude. Where does turmoil end and adventure begin? Turmoil. That's funny.

I'm walking along a lightly trodden path when the thought strikes me: I'm creating a rut. Sure, now its only a trail of trampled weeds, but my trip along it enforces it's existence and my return will doubly so.  This path I might I justify because I deem it the best route to my desired destination, but shouldn't I at least be conscious of what I'm doing?  There are so many possible routes with so many possible destinations if I'm not careful I may get too comfortable with this one and miss out on something better or more appropriate.

 Just the possibility of becoming comfortable is a scary thought. What if I come upon some incredible opportunity but have grown so accustomed to my well-worn routine that I am unable to capitalize upon it?  Or I find it easier to convince myself of it's non-value than to dare and blaze an unfamiliar trail? I can't get comfortable here. Not yet.  I'm not ready to miss out on something else yet.