There is nothing so truly horrifying as putting your life accomplishments onto paper and realizing that the only things that people in the world care for, the only things worth mentioning, only take up 2 pages, and half of the first page is contact information. That's a serious blow to the ego. I keep trying to throw more stuff in there, but I just can't come up with anything. It's like there truly is nothing to my life that can flesh all this empty space out.
I guess this is a wake up call that I need to get my butt in gear, start doing stuff that's... productive. I'm like a lump. I'm not useful. Other people are useful. I'm just stagnant. I feel utterly without purpose, all because of a stupid piece of paper.
I think that I need a girlfriend, so at least when I have emotional trauma, it's not self-inflicted.
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