IDK What I'm Doing...

Like many people, I feel lost. I have somewhat of a routine. Every day is pretty much the same. I wake up, shower, brush my teeth, throw some clothes on, go to work, come home, make dinner, spend a little time with my wife and baby, get ready for bed, go to sleep, then wake up and do it all over again the next day. More days than not, I find myself sitting at my desk daydreaming. Knowing I am here on Earth to do more. To be more. Yet, I wake up and do the same routine over and over.

Don't get me wrong, I love my life. I have a beautiful wife, a healthy baby girl, a couple of dogs, a couple of cats, a stable enough job, a roof over our heads, and a great support system of family and friends. On paper, we are living the good old-fashioned "American Dream". Yet, inside, I feel unaccomplished. I am not reaching my full potential. I am not using all the talents I was blessed with. What sucks the most is I don't even know what those talents are. I am too scared to branch out on my own, start my own company, and figure out just how much potential I have. If my eulogy was written today, it would probably go something like this:

"Jared loved his wife and family. He was a loving husband, father, uncle, and friend. He was filled with so much potential. It's a shame we never got to see all of the things he could have accomplished..."

Death doesn't scare me. The idea of dying before I do anything does, however.

So, here I am starting a blog. I enjoy writing even though I think I'm not good. The fear of what people might think of my writing has kept me journaling in a Moleskine and keeping what I have to say in private.

I also feel I am in no position to give people advice or "hacks" on how to live. The concept of the blog, YouTube channel, or anything else I may create is to document all of the stuff I have no clue how to do.

I don't know how to parent. I don't know how to edit videos. I use way too many commas and probably have a ton of grammatical errors that would make my grade school English teacher shudder (sorry, Miss Jamie).

Life is just too short and fragile to sit in a dark room keeping things to yourself. I realized that when my dad passed away last year, I let a whole year slip by because I allowed myself to "grieve". In reality, all I did was get fat, stop writing, and become slightly depressed.

I don't know what the heck I'm doing. You probably don't either. So let's figure this out together.

Welcome to the shit show...

-J