If you don't know where you're going, any road will take you there.

I'm taking a break from my retrospective about my employment history for the time being. Oh, I'll probably write something tomorrow or so.

I've been pretty melancholy this holiday season due to Marion's condition, Ron being in the hospital, and still missing Mom during another Christmas season. My Mom loved Christmas and decorating for Christmas. I was talking with my Dad about it earlier this month. My Mom was a gifted artisan in a way. She made these drum ornaments for the tree one year. She must have made at least 300 if not more. I could only imagine the detail that went into crafting each one. I can only imagine the sense of accomplishment she must have had when she finished and had all those little drums on her tree.

I think I wrote previously that I've been in a funk since returning to New Jersey from Las Vegas back in early 2005. I haven't written (besides this blog and innocuous facebook postings) since my screenplay "Minimum Wage". I really think by the time I got to that particular screenplay, my writing for the film medium had developed quite nicely. Dialogue was coming more naturally. I was actually developing good plots, and I had unique ideas (as much as film can be unique). I often try to outline a new idea or two, but always seem to talk myself out of it. The last serious idea I had was writing a screenplay based on my Dad's bedtime serial stories, "Gitchy Gatchy Goomie". I think it would be an original story. Heck, any story about a kid that's dropped off on a deserted island to "toughen him up" is pretty original in my estimation.

Yet, I am faced with self doubt that it wouldn't lead anywhere when I know full well there's a chance that it could lead somewhere, but maybe I would rather live in a world of "ifs" and dream that I could have been the next Ethan Coen if I just sent my script away. Besides "Minimum Wage" I wrote two other screenplays I felt were pretty decent. "A.C.E. Atlantic City Expressway" and "Among Thieves". But, when I look at the files on my hard drive, and I read them, I just think they aren't good enough and no one would even find them at all appealing.

I live in a world of self doubt, I suppose. I'm crippled by it, and I just grow older by my inaction.

Regardless of my writing aspirations, this time of year always depresses me for any number of reasons. It should be a joyous time, and one filled with hope. I just see things the way they are. It's just another year that has passed me by. It's another year that I've bid farewell to friends and family. It's just another step closer to absolutely nothing. I realize that I'm not being filled with Christmas cheer here, but I'm engaged in a battle. I'm saddened about Marion's condition, and I feel so helpless. I'm not really helpless. I think it's just that powerless feeling that goes along with getting a diagnosis such as this. Even when the cancer is staged, and treatments begin, I think there will still be that hopelessness. I'm battling that because I hate self-defeating ideology. I'm just trying to stay strong.

Maybe it's time to start outlining another project.