All The Beautiful People

The world is full of beautiful people. Or so we perceive. Beautiful faces sprawl across sides of buildings and beautiful bodies lounge on billboards, looking down at the rest of us with that better-than-thou look of superiority. Beautiful people even exist in the flesh, walking down the street, ordering coffee in front of us, sitting across from us on the bus, etc.
Those of us who do not possess the natural (or even feigned) beauty of these individuals feel inadequate. There is such pain and want in the looks of those people who read the magazines filled with the "beautiful" people, and for what reason?

I know I feel inadequate. Not so much compared to the people I see in the magazines, movies, and billboards, but compared to the beautiful people I see walking down the street. The men I know champion these beautiful women as something particularly special, as if the rest of us are some secondary class of woman.
In order to quell these deep feelings of inadequacy, we tell ourselves that these women must not be as funny as we are, or not as intelligent as we are, but when a beautiful women shows up who is everything we are except better, it scares the living hell out of us.
Most times, I feel like I have a limited number of things going for me. I'm not the prettiest, the nicest, the most talented, or the most fun. I'm pretty run of the mill; there aren't any defining parts of my character that make me special.
So when a beautiful person comes along who is funnier, smarter, and nicer than I am, I become immediately secondary.

At this point, I'm wondering why I care. In some ways, I know why. I am not where I should be at this point in life. I am a child surrounded by working professionals; people who, for all intents and purposes, have everything figured out.
And right now, I have nothing figured out. Not a single thing. I feel utterly and completely lost, totally unsatisfied with my life, and confused beyond belief. What is the next step from here? Where am I going? How do I start?

I know myself well enough to know that my most immediate reaction to this overwhelming wave of reminders is depression; I want to lay down and not get up. I want to hide, be forgotten, and fall apart. For the past two days, I've been doing a mediocre job of avoiding this. I've managed to do a few things and stay in a relatively good mood (not without the help of a wonderful boyfriend).
But as I head back to another week of work, I can't help but wonder why I'm doing everything I'm doing. My life is devoid of any meaning or purpose at this point, and it is devastating.

Some large life change is imminent. I don't know what that means exactly, or what it entails, but something has to move forward. Not just change, but change for the better, change in the forward direction. Otherwise I will fall apart.
I am teetering on the edge of a very vast and bottomless chasm, debating the pros and cons of simply falling off.