I can't count the number of times someone has said to me: "Be careful what you wish for; you might get it." I must be more wishful than I realize because it's true; I often get it, and I get it in the arse.

The problem is, I don't usually wish for altruistic or even materialistic things. I usually wish for the end or the beginning of something, or the complete polar opposite of whatever situation I'm in.

For instance, a few years back I was at a no-brainer night job and bored to death because I didn't have a whole lot to do in the office. I wished that my superiors would let me take more proactive steps to bring about the changes I thought would be great for the company and its workflow. I wished to be kept busy so that the eight or nine hours that I spent there would fly by. I wished for regular office hours.

Well... I got my wish.

My next job took a lot out of me. I was doing the work of three or four people, all of which required being able to respond to things in an intelligent manner. My superiors liked that I introduced new procedures and tools for company use; in fact they expected it, so long as all of my other necessary but meaningless and time-consuming work was completed. My workload was phenomenal, and my deadlines were deadly. I had regular office hours, but the work was such that I never accomplished them all in one day, and I never had time to take off for an hour or two to run an errand at the bank or the post office.

So I wished again... and got a job so beneath my talents and abilities, I found myself bored again.

I can never seem to find the middle of the spectrum, and it's frustrating as hell. The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, it's been said. My problem is that I can never knock the fence down and stand with a foot in each yard.

Think of it. You're a young adult living at home. You feel stifled by family, and your freedom is limited if not nonexistent; the same goes for your privacy. You're jumpy and easily irritated or angered by your parents. You want your own place, and you want your own rules.

So you move out.

A few months later, you're missing your mother's cooking and never having to pay rent. You're lonely and vulnerable, or you're uncertain about your financial stability. You long for the days you didn't have to worry about mundane things like bills and buying groceries.

Go figure.

Too bad you can't find a spot somewhere in between the two situations, striking a balance between the two extremes. It's that damn fence in between the two yards; you can't straddle it without hurting yourself.

That's my frustration. One minute, I'm in school wishing I was done with it and never had to do homework again. The next minute, I'm working in the real world and wishing I was back in school again where I didn't have to worry about making my own assignments and grades. If you succeed in the real world, you get an A; if you merely survive, a C.

It's like I'm always in the wrong place, at the wrong time; I can never seem to appreciate the moment, where I don't wish for anything more than the present.

Crap a damn. Or rather, carpe diem. Who knew it was supposed to cure the frustration of the fences?

Not I.

I'm still learning... and wishing.