Middle aged angst

Thanks to a thread on a.g. (What do you want to do?), I've come to a sickening realization:

I have absolutely no thoughts as to what happens after Convergence. I am completely devoid of goals and ambitions, aside from getting through each day as it comes.

Which is Not Me, and I hate it, but what can I do? I can't get a "career-type" job, or even a better PA job, because of the massive amount of time I have off sick (trust me, I've tried). I can't do a the library science or technical writing course that I want, because if I can barely work full time I can't possibly do a course on top of that. I can't quit work to study because we can't afford to live on one income. Plus neither course is offered in the city where we live.

So I'd shifted to more personal goals. But. The last time I tried to sew something, I was so tired and shaking so badly I messed up my machine, and I can't concentrate to fix it. I'm doing needlepoint but that's essentially colouring with wool. I'm too exhausted to work on the house. Plus I'm so non-domestic I can't cope with decorating my house being a goal.

Writing? Don't make me laugh. I have the attention span of a gnat and the verbal centres of my brain are fried. Neither of my novels is going to see the light of day. I can't express how much it hurts to admit that.

I've never been without goals and ambitions before. It sucks.

And, to top it all off, last night my oldest friend in the world got to hang out with Peter Murphy. Do I feel like a loser much?

Jodi