Greener. Much greener.

I've always been a person who believes that the grass is always greener. I always think there is better out there than what I've got. And I'm trying to hunt it down. After seven years I'm still roaming because something always seems to try to guide me to this greener grass.

For the past seven years I've been moving an average of twice a year – and I'm not just talking apartment numbers here, sometimes states, sometimes coasts. Thirteen addresses. Yes, I counted and I've had 13 addresses since I was eighteen. Plus all the in-between times I've had to move back to my parent's house, this time being the 4th. Where am I going? And what the hell am I looking for? It's no longer wanderlust. One thing is for certain, I'm getting tired.

This makes me wonder if I'm just too picky. Do most people settle? Settle with their jobs. Settle with life. Do they know something I don't? Like the perfect job doesn't exist, never will – neither will the perfect life. But I'm not even looking for perfect. Just something non-depressing.

...........

I've been sitting here for the past twenty minutes trying to figure out where to go from here. What to write, how to tidily sum up this post. And I have nothing. Maybe this is a cop-out, but I guess I can't make sense of everything until I know what new direction I'm taking. Maybe I'll figure it out from my next address. Who knows, perhaps it will have a backyard with much greener grass.