Of my many faults...

...jealousy is not one of them, I am proud to say. Usually. But this time... I don't know. I just finished reading my mother's blog, and now I think I'm feeling the beginnings of jealousy forming. Not only towards my mother, however. This is a rather wide jealousy.
You see, she just posted about how she was embracing writer-hood and how great it is (kind of, I'm not nearly as good at essays and profundity as she is) and I'm kind of feeling useless. It seems to me that everyone I know has some "skill" or calling or spiritual gift and even if they don't know what they're doing, they
a) Know that they are going to do something world-changing, and
b) Have the skills to do almost anything they end up wanting to do.
c) Or they're rich. Okay. I don't know any rich people personally, but if I did, that would be an option.
Sure, my friends have problems (who doesn't?) and I'm not saying that I want to be them, or that they shouldn't have all this ability. I'm just thinking...
*little tiny childish voice* I just kind of want a piece of that.
I have neither direction for my life nor skills. I know what you're thinking. "She's one of those people who doesn't even know how good she has it. She's probably a model and the next Einstein/Julia Roberts/Susan B. Anthony/Jane Goodall." Actually, no. I'm totally serious here. I really am not talented at anything. I'm no dog, looks wise, and I'm not stupid, either. I'm just kind of here. In fact, if there were one word I would use to decribe myself, it would probably be nondescript. I'm average in every way possible. Not my lifestyle, obviously. How many 15 year olds have lived in a two room cabin with an outhouse for around two years? And how many are homeschooled? I'm pretty exeptional in that respect. Unfortunately, my lifestyle has very little to do with me. It has mostly to do with my parents. I can't really do anything by myself.
Just in case you are a person who does have a purpose in life, I have to tell you how much I envy you, since my purpose seems to have gotten lost in the shuffle of futures. Probably through some fault of my own. I can just imagine... *thought bubby, hazy frame*
Angel: All people about to be born, form a line to my right. *taps my shoulder* Excuse me, ma'am. Have you filled out the nessasary paperwork?
Me: *shuffles around* No, not exactly. I kind of lost it. But here's a picture I drew of the family I want. *hands picture*
Angel: *squints* Is that a dog right there? *points*
Me: *looks at paper* No, that's a house. Don't worry about it, it's a common mistake in my artwork.
Angel: *taps foot impatiently* Well, I'll give you a few minutes to fill this out. Hurry with it, though. You're going to be overdue.
Me: Okay. *takes paper and begins to fill out* Hmm. This will take way to long. I'll just circle random choices. It won't hurt anything much.
Drifting back into reality... That would explain a lot. Including my allergy to some types of metal. Severe allergy. As in, touches my skin for a few hours, I break out.
If you have a skill, cherish it. You're better off than I am.