Perpetual Disappointment…

I’ve discovered a problem with trying to do to many things in my life. In the last ten years I’ve done more than some people do in a lifetime. I’m not boasting about it here… because really, it’s quite depressing.

In the second year of flight school, I would actually get bored doing solo flights. Well, until I got lazy with a stall here and there and almost shit myself when I felt a spin about to happen. But really… who gets bored flying?

It seems that much of what I do with my life has the same feeling. A lot of times it’s with women. Just like the planes I flew in school, there’s a point at which you realize that there was a bunch of dudes (and women too) who got their rocks off with her before you did. And probably did cooler things too! There’s nothing special about it… Just flying around in circles like everyone else has done before. Yawn…

My boredom stunted my progress as is does with a lot of things lately. Maybe I’m just being whiny or entitled but come on people! Throw me a bone! It could be that I need more friends… Or more money… However the cheese is cut, I need to find a way to be satisfied with life again.

Because of what I’ve recklessly done with myself over the years, I raised the bar for what I expect out of people. It’s not that people in my life aren’t/can’t be amazing, it’s that I need to realize that most people actually think ahead about how their actions will effect them later in life.

I mean… Who hasn’t been deployed to combat, built a restaurant, attained a commercial pilot license, lived on a sailboat, traveled to other countries, lived all over the US, acquired (almost) a massage therapist certification, developed websites, jumped out of planes, climbed trees for a living, drove semi-trucks cross country, slung coffee, smoked a cigar with Miss. Washington… And who has run out of fingers and toes to count how many … ehh, never-mind that one.

I’m off to shower, get dressed in my lame clothes and go to the shitty coffee shop down the street in hopes of running into my soul-mate. Then again, maybe my soul mate is on craigslist.