A friend, who was educated at an esteemed, private university, recently quit his well-paying professional job to become a ski instructor in Lake Tahoe, despite well-intentioned concerns about the ruination of his future.

I am jealous.

Not that I ski. Or want to move to Lake Tahoe. But the idea of it – I wish I had the balls for a life-changing, off-the-beaten-path act.

I hate writing that because it sounds whiny.  Life is comprised of the choices one makes and, therefore, change is within everyone’s prerogative. I could change.  And really, my life is ok –I would even go so far as to say my life is going well. I enjoy writing, having the money to buy cute shoes, and schmoozing with the Wine Bar clientele. My family and friends are healthy and pretty wonderful. Some days, I even convince myself I am happy.

But it’s all so very responsible.

I have always been responsible, straying dangerously close to overachiever. Why graduate high school with honors when high-honors are an option? Why pick one major in college when, with summer school and a few semesters of 18 credits, two degrees can be earned? Even now, I work seventy-five hours a week because what the hell else would I do with my life. Be social? Watch prime-time television? Sleep more than six hours a night? Isn’t that why God invented cell phones, DVR, and coffee (respectively)?

When The Kid and I ended, I vowed to become even more adult and responsible.

I was going to work in an office, play with excel, and earn my 401K; I was going to pay my bills on time, date someone in the same state, refill my gas before the visual reminder of the warning light, keep my receipts, and hell, maybe even get a mortgage. Most people speak very highly of these things. Maybe I would turn into one of them.

I have been trying this responsible adult thing; it bores me.

One of my life’s fears –besides being home alone and loons (yes, the bird, they are scary little fuckers) –is that I will continue to live responsibly without taking another risk.  And then I will die.

My risks are not even that exciting. But the few that I have taken have proved to be the best parts of my life.

But now, I live in the same state where I grew up and hang out with the same people I always have and –even though my job is great and I adore my friends –the monotony stabs a small nerve no matter how much I try to convince myself that my life is going really well.

I just need some type of change. Graduate school and relocations are planned for my future but those plans take time and, meanwhile, I miss having the adventure. Or even the prospect of an adventure.