I don’t really feel like writing today, but like every other day I don’t have a choice, so I’ll write.
I haven’t really felt like doing anything today, but that’s how some days are. I dunno, I’m getting used to it. While it doesn’t feel like today was worth waking up for, I got out of the house, I’ve finished my work for the day and I just have to wait it out until I can leave and go home. I don’t want to talk to other people, so I’ll probably just avoid that. I made a big pot of chicken soup last night, so at least that’s waiting for me at home. I realised last night that the final season of Catastrophe had a) started and b) finished. It’s British, so the season is all of six episodes. I was kind enough to leave two for myself to watch tonight. So that’s what’s waiting at home. Small victories.
If this all sounds kind of miserable, don’t worry, it is. At the same time, it’ll pass and maybe in a few days I’ll feel better. I did extra work today so I can have a breezy work from home day tomorrow. Paying it forward. I figure that’s a kindness. I’ve been trying to go out of my way to do tasks ahead of time, take care of chores when they arise, not when they linger. Oddly enough, frontloading this work is as much self-care as I have in the barrel right now. I’ve got a full fridge and freezer. I’m trying to make sure I have healthy food to eat. At the same time, my freezer has gotten so full that it barely stays closed. I think I need to start eating the food instead of saving it for later. That should be easier. Once again, small victories.
The weird thing is, I’m not even low in my lows. I’m hovering somewhere between a 4-5/10 at the moment. I’m surviving. I’ve got enough function to operate and take care of myself, but thriving is still closer to a 7-10 kind of thing. There could be stuff on the horizon, but as ever I’m tempering my expectations. As shitty as it sounds, the last couple of years have taught me that excitement breeds disappointment, so I’m leaving that on the sidelines for the moment. I’ll save excitement for when things happen, and until then I’ll be cautiously tentative. Things could be worse, and that’s a mercy of sorts.
I had a busy weekend, and distractions helped to stave off too much misery. Who knows? Maybe it’s just that during the week I feel like I’m wasting my life, going into the same office to efficiently deliver unremarkable work. That the drudgery and worthlessness of what I do is enough to strip my desire to exist. That I understand how pointless things are right now, but that they’ve been that pointless for too many years. Realistically though, my lack of professional pride is just the straw breaking the camel’s back. I’ve got enough intertwined frustrations, anxieties and issues to keep this going for years. Whatever reason I have to thrive is beyond me, so until I find one, I’ll stick with surviving. I don’t have the energy spare to waste otherwise.
Like writing, I don’t really have a choice about living. So I’ll just keep doing that until I find a good reason to do so. Then I can thrive.