The possibilities are feeling a little too endless

I upset myself again tonight, and embraced all of the anxiety that floods me when I think about What To Do With My Life. I had some free time (okay, not free time, really. It was time that should have been spent folding laundry.) and I took this here laptop and started browsing for ideas. ..Ugh.

Do you remember playing Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego? I loved that game. Played it all the time. I was good at it. And you know how you would go to the souvenir shop and talk to someone, then the train station and talk to someone, and they'd all give you clues either on the suspect you were chasing or the next place to go?

Then you'd choose this, this, or this city to go to next. And when you chose the right one, sometimes you'd see a little dinky animation to know you were totally on the right track. And people would give you clues like "A red-headed woman was asking about Yen. You just missed her!" And you knew that if you went right then to Japan, you'd have the game in the bag.

But if you chose the wrong city, when you went to the souvenir shop they'd say something like, "Gee, haven't seen anything suspicious 'round these parts." A comment totally devoid of any useful information except a resounding YOU GOT IT WRONG.

And that's the general feeling I get when I think about what to do next. I have a degree. What now? Where's my dinky animation? Where's a stinking clue? Do I go to grad school? Do I look for another job? Studying what? Doing what? I feel like the questions all only lead to more questions. Nothing's getting narrowed down. So, if I got it wrong, how do I get it right again?