i've found myself in another rut. i don't know whether it's winter blues but the greyness of paris in january and the drastic lack of light in the flat definitely aren't helping. my creative spark seems to have withered into the form of a small dry mushroom hidden at the back of my brain behind a bunch of heavy boxes that i simply can't face moving in order to start the slow painful process of reviving it. the larger the gap gets between graduating and the present and the deeper i get into a job that frankly doesn't interest me or require any brain power, the more i feel opportunity slipping through my fingers. two months without writing a word, blog neglect guilt is yet another feeling, probably stored in one of the heavy boxes, that needs unpacking.
the french seem to have it mapped out from the age of fifteen. they know exactly what they want to do with their lives and they proceed down the logical path towards their chosen career. they don't stray (they use their social lives for that) and they take the anal french administration system in their stride. opinionated and ready to take to the streets in the name of socialist change, certainly, but in most regards they remain firm traditionalists who want a certified guarantee that something works before having a go.
as usual it's very easy to see other peoples' situations objectively but when it comes to helping myself i get tangled up and defeatist.