down in the funk; or, ridiculous squabbling

I've been feeling in a definite funk lately. It's one of those major rethinking funks wherein I'm wondering if I'm satisfied with my choices (and, at the same time, feeling jerky for even wondering when my life is pretty freaking fantastic). As I told Cardo the other day, I sometimes wonder if I've done things in the wrong order somehow. But, really, whose order am I looking at? Why am I even worried about this? It's not as if there is some plan out there, writ large, dictating what we all do. Anyhow, if there was, knowing the way I do things, I'd deviate from that plan. So, what's my deal? Chissa?

And, when I'm feeling in this mood, I end up questioning how I'm contributing to this family. I actually start wondering if I am even contributing, which I know is ridiculous. I know it, but I forget. Then, Cardo and I devolve into arguing over who does less. Oh, geez. I can't wait for Pic to just assert, "Hey, guys, you're being ridiculous. Things rock. Stop whining."

I really think it's just too easy for me to fall into that old American dream trap (or, what seems to be the new American dream trap). More ridiculousness! Because working endless hours to buy a bunch of crap is definitely not what I want. I want time with my family. And, yes, I could always do with some more books. But I don't want brand new cars, flat screen plasma tvs, cable/satellite/whatever, fancy new phones, a fancy new house, ecc. I want what I have. So, what the crap? I don't know.

Thanks, Mighty Interweb, I think you've just allowed me to talk myself out of my utter silliness.