I'm sometimes too impressionable. I get overwhelmed by the sites and sounds of a place, and feel the urge to change my life in some way. Fortunately, I've a cool head, and I rarely act on my crazier impulses. It happened today, again, when I went on a run before packing to come home to San Francisco. It was another sparkling, fresh day in Seattle, and I had a wonderful run. I ran down the steep hills from the Hilton, past the Symphony Hall and the Art Museum, down to the road that curves around the bay.

I've really fallen for Seattle, like I frequently seem to fall for cities, and I could easily imagine myself living there. As I ran, looking with interest at everything, trying to figure out how Seattle hanged together, I felt acutely aware of how good it was to be alive, and to have all these choices. The blue bay spread out for miles around me, the cool air caressed my skin, and I could almost have shouted for joy; being a proper, reserved British gentleman, I didn't, of course.

At the same time, though, I was thinking about having to go back to work tomorrow, and of how much I hate it. I'd gotten an email last week from my boss commenting on the lack of "billable" hours on my recent time-sheets. He wasn't blaming me for it, since I can't bill hours if we don't have any business. But he suggested that I could use my time more effectively by going out on sales calls with our account executives. Ugh!

All these things were revolving in my mind as I ran in that wonderful, clean air. I felt soooo over the corporate world. Into my mind came suddenly the impulse to quit my job tomorrow, and move to Seattle. The idea felt so attractive. No more expense reports, no more sales jargon, no more business lunches, time to pursue my interests. Yeah, but what would I live on. Sigh. The dream began to fade.

I do feel captive though. And now I've wrapped up my Monday and Tuesday evenings in film-class. I already missed the first week due to this trip, and now my employer wants to send me back to our headquarters in the south again in two or three weeks, so I'll likely miss class again. But even if I don't miss class, the fact that I have them every Monday and Tuesday means that my travel is totally restricted from now on. I'm feeling just what I felt a few journal entries ago, when I had another wild idea to move to the Berkshires and learn to paint. Oy veh. I never thought I'd end up as a corporate drone. When I was in grad school, I was sure I'd become a writer or an actor. But the 9-5 job, and the regular income sucked me in.

I'm rambling I know. I'm just feeling so ... unfocussed is not the right word. More that I'm trying to go in so many directions that I'm ending up standing still.