What am I doing with my life?

Yes... this is a cliche question, but the more I think about it the more I wonder... Am I doing what I'm meant to?  Since someone was not considerate enough to provide me with a user manual or a troubleshooting guide, I'm left to my own devices in respect to this.  So what am I supposed to do?  I simply can't get on board with the idea that I'm meant to spend the next 12 years bitching about having to fix something that an individual with much more education than I has broken.  Yet, there are very few jobs I can think of that might fit my skill set.  So, what is it I'm supposed to be doing?  I gave up on the musician pipe dream long ago, since I'm not especially talented in that department.  I'm also starting to think that the President thing may not work out either.  Regardless of what that thing may be, I know I'm wasting time every day.

I could be working on a degree, although I have no idea what it should be in.  There's always my Airframe and Power plant License, which would essentially pigeonhole me into maintaining aircraft.  The pay is good, but the work is tedious, dirty and frustrating.  Do I really want to be a mechanic for the rest of my life?  Not particularly.  Doing it for a living has taken most of the fun out of it for me.  I used to get amped up while I was pulling out an engine for a fresh rebuild or tearing a suspension apart... but now, it seems like I'm back at work.  Hmmm.

I could be fixing my house.  Well, I am... sort of.  I could be doing more, but finding the motivation is almost as rare as finding the money.  A lot has been done so far, but there's a good deal more work to do.  Flooring, kitchen remodel, yard work, painting.  I should really get crackalating on it. 

I could be loving my significant other, whoever and wherever she may be.  This is on my mind every day that I come home to no one.  This is quite possibly the longest that I've gone without being in a relationship since I started dating when I was 13.  Okay, fine... 16.  I'm a late bloomer... Shut up.  Still, it's not getting any easier.  But she's out there, and I know that each day that passes is one less with her.  Alas, this is something I have no control over. 

I guess I just hate knowing that each passing day could be my last, and with each that does I know I've not done all I could do... I've wasted it.  Afghanistan is looming around the corner, and I don't have much to show for my life except a beautiful little boy.  I guess I need to get off my ass and make things happen.  Fuck.  Being a grown up sucks.