Restless Legs, Or Sleepless Mind?

It's 3 am on a Monday morning, and I can't sleep due to the most horrifying inconvenience known to a tired soul... restless legs. Ugh (if there is one time that actually typing "ugh" is justifiable, that time is now.) So... I'm going to write for you. For me. :)

Since my last entry (how formal..), I have mastered the nomadic life of a suitcase junkie to say the least.  I spend my days making some money, my nights exhausted, usually curled up in bed smelling like deli food doing some meaningless internet surfing, and my weekends in Columbia reliving the fun parts of college.  Or maybe it's just the fun parts of life now, since I am a college dropout and all..

I hate that word: reliving.  Gross.  Who wants to relive when there's no regret?  It seems these past couple of weeks, I have had some pretty deep, often dark conversations with anyone and everyone who will listen to what I think is a pretty twisted world (the one in my head anyway).  I've defended my faith while dismissing religion.  I've talked to a Wiccan (I think..) about the art of healing one another through our own body's energy.  I've smiled, and given a happy hello to everyone I pass by, everyday.  It's amazing what a simple smile can do to brighten up a day... even if you're only brightening up your own. 

But outside of everything... I feel somewhat empty.  I walk through my day singing songs in my head, day dreaming of this beautiful life ahead of me.  I'm getting so anxious.  I'm about an ink signature away from moving back to Columbia to be with the people I love.  I'm putting my dreams of destination aside to get my fill of that feeling that those people in the most perfect destinations day dream about.  Sounds pretty descent, I suppose... but if this is the way it's meant to be.. if it's alright that I'm putting off what I catch myself subconsciously smiling about on a daily basis... why am I questioning?  My questions have never steered me wrong before... so I'm not about to just brush that off.  Maybe there's a reason I don't have regret in my soul.  Maybe I'm not meant to relive.