Sigh.

We were driving home along the 401 today, and I was sitting there, watching the bright fall colours fly by. It should have been pretty and nice and it was, but oh, I don't know, for some reason it made me sad, too.

Sometimes I feel like I don't live in the world, I live with it. I tolerate it, and really only enjoy it as long as I can have the things that I want from it. I'm selfish, and all I do is take, take, take and then complain that I don't have enough. I don't notice the seasons changing, except when it affects how I get dressed in the morning. If you asked me what phase the moon was in, I would probably laugh at you.

What I'm trying to say is, I feel apart, separate, and I don't want to. But I don't know how to change, either.

I suppose living in the city is part of it, especially this city. The life people lead here encourages me to be self-absorbed, to care about selfish things. You forget that you live in this huge, beautiful world because everything is Toronto and why would you ever want to leave Toronto, because Toronto has everything you will ever need.

I feel like I used to treasure things, things that I owned, moments that I lived through, the people around me. Now I feel like I tear through life without stopping for a second look. I used to wake up and feel like every day could be an adventure. Now I just trudge through my weeks, wanting them to be over and done with, as if I'm counting down to something that's never coming.

On the way home, we stopped at Tim Horton's for a coffee. The man behind us was explaining to the woman he was with that he'd disappeared for a second because he'd run off to give a stranger back the $20 bill that she'd dropped.

"Oh," said his friend/partner/wife/whatever.

"Well," she said, after thinking for a minute. "She should at least have bought you a coffee."

That pretty much sums up how I feel right now. We're all waiting for that metaphorical coffee as a reward for all the good deeds we've ever done.