Commitment and Eclairs

I always get a little swirrl of anxiety when I sit down to write.
Maybe it's not knowing the outcome.
Maybe it's the uncertainty that I'll find the words.
But I'm feeling it now.

I'm writing because I was inspired by my friend Dani's blog entry that she wrote recently about herself. More specifically, things she finds wrong with herself.
With this train of thought, fresh and in the back of my mind, I wrote to my friend Toni. I haven't been in too close of contact with her in a while, so I was telling her about what's been going on in my life.
It was during this e-mail that I realized, I am afraid of commitment.
Maybe "afraid" isn't the right word.
Maybe I have an aversion to commitment.
Maybe I'm allergic.
Whatever the appropriate term for my inability to commit to things, the fact is, I am unable to commit to things.
I'm not talking about relationships. James and I have been together 4 years as of the 10th of October. I am very commited to him. I don't know about marriage, but that's a whole other story.
I'm talking about commitment to any direction in my life.
I'm talking about to anything lasting longer than a couple of weeks.
Por Ejemplo: In the past 4ish years, I have been intensly and passionately interested in crochet, belly dance, beading, poi, and haiku, all for about a month each. And those are just the examples I can think of right off the top of my head.
I have made arrangements to roommate with 4 different people, Julie, Toni, Melody, and Jen. I have followed through with only Julie, and that was only for a month and a half. The rest, I've decided against after a couple weeks thought, thus ruining other's plans and nearly breaking up my sister, Melody, and her fiance.
I can't even commit to simple plans to hang out with people. I make the plan, I decide I don't want to hang out after all, I never call, and when that person calls me, I don't answer the phone. people who know me really well have come to understand this about me: I am a flake.
So, at this particular juncture in my life, I have a plan, as I usually do.
I am going to save money, for roughly a year. Then I'm going to take out loans for school, at the same time, investing the money I've saved, with James' help. Then I'll go to school. When I'm finished with school, I'll use the money I had originally saved to pay off my loans before they accure any interest, and I'll keep the money I made off that money in the stock market, so it can make me some mo monies.
An excellent plan I think. I really like this one.
But you don't understand. I've made SOOOOOO many plans. And SOOOOO few have come to fruition.
Why? Because I can't commit. Therefore, I get little accomplished.
Therefore, much of the time I feel like I'm floating around, just stayin' alive.
I imagine such great things for myself. Such wonderful experiences and accomplishments. I expect a wonderful life.
Buy how the frick am I supposed to experience and accomplish great things if I can't commit to something for more than a month?
Maybe I have a short attention span.
There are only a few long lasting passions in my life, and those are, in order of age (though definitely not in order of importance), food, writing, cooking, and James.
Travel also actually, but as it's not on a front burner for me right now, I hesitate to add it to the previous list.

So I'm a commitment-phobe. What do I do? I feel ya guys.

I just want to add, I made eclairs from scratch today. If you've only had doughnut shop eclairs, then you've never had one. SHAZAAM!