I was walking with a ghost.

I have absolutely no staying power.

My attention span is that of a goldfish. I’ll start something with such fervor, unable to stop even if I had a gun to my head (though I have to admit this scenario has never happened). A painting. A story. A blog post. A scarf. A movie.

Give me an hour. Give me a day. Give me a week.

Depending on the project, it will lose its appeal in approximately a third of the time it would take to actually complete it.

This makes me nervous for the future.

Relationships? Degrees? Jobs? Do I stand a chance?

Then I wonder if these things aren’t for me. Maybe I’m not a painter. Maybe that story or blog shouldn’t be written. Maybe this movie isn’t my taste.

What is for me?

MY GOODNESS. Why can’t I be satisfied and who do I honestly expect to answer these questions?

Certainly not you lurkers.