I’m writing this in a motorway service station eating a family sized box meal, because I had a job interview. And now I’m a mess.
All I heard in my answers was I don’t have a plan. I don’t have a future.
I have dates for jobs, I have holidays planned, I have friends birthdays and I have places to go.
Yet life is a black empty hole of expectations and change and uncertainty.
My heart and stomach and esophagus could fail anytime. I could black out and crash my car and then it’s all over.
So I bailed on work, got snacks for the road, stopped at each service station to fill and empty and fill again.
Because I’m terrified of life without this and I’m terrified this will kill me.
And now I can’t remember where I parked the car.