I stopped writing because I though I had said everything I needed to say. I'm sort of at a stalemate. My job is wonderfully predicable and meaningless. I hate writing papers and reading reviews as I don't see anything earth shattering in writing about a preassigned topic. I snap at my parents and my sister. I desperately want to smack the lady in yoga who moans every time we do a particularly effective stretch. My eczema is driving me up the wall. I'm finding far too much solace in McDonalds. I dyed my hair brown just to escape the monotony of it all.
To make matters worse, everything I learn depresses me these days. Political science used to excite me. I loved the intricacies of power. I believed with absolute certainty in democracy, government regulated capitalism, a welfare state, and all those other good Canadian values, but now I'm not so sure. I get lots of questions, we discuss almost constantly the way the government's gone wrong the bad things Western states have done to the rest of the world. It's wildly depressing because, no matter how often we discuss what went wrong, we have yet o discuss what the answer is.
Maybe I'm not finished. Maybe I still have more questions to answer, I definitely have a rut to climb out of. Wish me luck!
I'll let you know.