Out of Sheer Rage by Geoff Dyer

If one could accept one's own shortcomings, perhaps one could be happy, contented, at one, as they say, with oneself; but what if one's principal shortcoming is, precisely, this unlimited capacity to generate friction between giving in to oneself as one is one moment and the equally strong urge to re-shape and seize control of how one was at some later date? Nothing wrong per se in going to Oaxaca and deciding, once you are there, that you do not want to do exactly that which you came to do. It might even be tolerable to fail to do something now precisely so that you can gnaw and gnaw away at it later, and then to waste weeks gnawing over this syndrome . . . No, there is not even the glimmer of contentment there. You're stuck, stuck in an endless loop, stuck like a record which keeps jumping back to the same three words—"if only . . ." "if only . . ."—which turn out to be only two words.