I received some disappointing news today. Apparently, the expected RV had some major repair needs, so it was sold. As upsetting as that was, I tend to be philosophical about these things. I have found that if things are meant to be, they will happen. Clearly, this was not my intended path.During my wait for the RV, I have had many thoughts about the future. I still have at least 8 months to a year before my daughter is ready to move on. Our busy season is starting here, so my business has begun picking up. My house is really little more than a place to sleep nowadays. I don't have any real furniture, since I plan to downsize and relocate. I, obviously, am not able to host parties or holidays. I have considered bringing in some pieces, but I wonder why I should bother.
This leads me to what I have been pondering, though. What is the point of all of this? I work 50-60 hours a week at my office, then even more time online. I come home long enough to work on the computer and sleep. I do make an effort to go out with friends and be sociable.
I realize that I am in a perpetual state of waiting for the next goal. Perhaps what I should be doing is making this place my home. I feel like a gypsy, even though I have been in the same house for 5 years.
It frightens me to hear a voice in the darkest regions of my mind whispering that this is all a pointless endeavor. Is it just vanity that makes us believe that our lives have meaning? Perhaps we really do just live, procreate, work and die. I am not willing to accept that, though. So, until I find my purpose, I suppose I will just keep plugging along...day after day...moment after moment...until the next adventure comes along...