Eureka! Now what?

So, I've finally moved into a place. Setting aside minor issues (leaky hot faucet in tub, decrepit front door, no dishwasher, ghetto punks acting macho in the backstreet), I really like the place. It's plenty of square footage for whatever I might decide to do, it's got hardwood floors with character, it's got chill neighbors, it's got GAS, and it's got a beautiful little kitchen to use that GAS in. Fuck electric ranges. Fuck them and their stupid conducting coils.

But now, this actually creates as well as solves some of my problems. I have a home base, but I need to set it up. I need to get gas, internet, furniture, and all that miscellaneous shit that it takes to make a place feel like home. Then I have to get my life (so long neglected) back in order. But where do I start?

My Grades? My health? My hobbies? My grades are already hurting, and most likely I won't get much higher than worm shit this academic quarter. It's bad enough that I'm considering withdrawing for the quarter. It almost seems as if the academic fight has been taken out of me.
My health is also a fucking laundry list: fitness, smoking (I admit the fucking cigs are tough to drop completely), drinking, dental, physical therapy, blood work I should have done. I need work on alll of them. And then I have to have some sort of social life, which is more difficult when my friends are spread out and I don't have time as it is getting day to day. Hobbies, although definitely not as important unless they start bringing in money, are essential since they keep me sane. I have to play a little harmonica every once in a while to keep sharp. Maybe I should busk? I might as well, because I'm just stuck in this malaise. I have to force myself to do almost anything, even the essentials. I drift mentally all day, obsessing over tangential topics like religion, unread books, or rants/ this blogging. I've got a very hedonistically self-destructive vibe going on here. I'm following a rabbit I don't know down a hole lined with thorns, and I'm holding my palms out while I fall.

What are my new priorities? How in the hell is it that I'm finding just living to be so damn difficult? Is it because I feel aimless? This brings me to my next thought, which I've been pondering more often as the days go by. The military.

Bear with me here. I know that I'm not doing so well. I know that a lot of it is just laziness, or if it isn't, then it's not worth getting all pussy over it. Life must go on, don't burden yourself with any more conditions, phobias, and crap than you have to. I know I've flourished under a disciplined regimen, when I didn't have free time to find ways of vicariously exercising my doubts through daily activities. It's time to stop numbing up and deal with shit. Given that all of this is stuff that I do to myself, I think depending on my own (very lacking) willpower is a sort of weak plan. But the military would have discipline. It would hold me to commitments on a regular basis and whip me back into mental shape-- task oriented, adroit, compartmentalized. All the qualities I had when I felt things were more evenly keeled. I would still be able to get doubtful, insecure, fearful. The military wouldn't answer the questions I've been hounded by, but it would give me the frame of reference to deal with my shit a bit at a time.

Plus, I think there are a lot of other things I like about the military. It would be an active lifestyle with significant portions spent outside, which is important for my sense of well being. It would provide an opportunity to use my language skill in some way, or even pick up a useful skill, like machine working. It would provide a certain sense of comraderie, and to be honest, I think I could stand to meet some more new people. I can always stand to learn something about myself through other perspectives. And there is an allure to giving myself a challenge. Could I feel comfortable under uniform code of military justice and all that entails? Could I complete the training? Would I pass the physical, even? To join the military seems such a daunting, life changing decision. It's scary in its own way, but I'm willing to accept the risk against all the positive things I think I may take away from it. It appears to me to be perhaps the best option for my future. I honestly don't even know whether or not I'd prefer to be an officer. It's a different experience. I'll finish up my degree. I enjoy learning that much, and I owe it to myself since it's such a necessity nowadays. But do I really need to finish it now? It's a thought.

Here's another question in my thinking. Navy or Marine Corps? Navy might be able to offer me something more to do with languages, and it would be pretty damn safe unless I tried to be a seal. The Marines offer superior esprit de corps, a tempting challenge to become one of the world's elite fighting forces. It's obviously more difficult to do the corps, and that's both a plus and a minus, considering the challenge and the health questions I have. However, the marines seem to have the pride and confidence that are at the core of what I desire to emulate. Navy or Marines? That'll take some more thought.

Think of the military as an extreme yogi who will create a new you by forcing you to reach certain standards. It sounds stupid, but the military has served as a formative and educational experience, as well as an occupation/scourge on humanity for all of human history.

My trajectory has always seemed a little random. Maybe it's time for a little outside order to get me back to the basics and back on track.