I can't remember another time when everything seemed to be colliding like this... it's so odd. Maybe it's just a good run of bad luck, as they say (do they say that?) or maybe I'm just displacing my own frustrations so that I'm seeing them more clearly from everyone else. Maybe I've just had enough of my own moping and emotude that I've started empathizing hard-core with people around me. It feels like I'm on the outside, though, nose squished up against the glass, getting it all fingerprinty as I try to peer inside. Maybe that's not right - maybe I'm on the inside of the glass looking out, maybe I'm trapped in my own little box. It would explain why I feel so stuck. I can see what's happening around me but I'm not a part of it, not quite. It's a hard feeling to explain.
I'm finding myself to be more and more content in my solitude. Possibly because I'm still recovering from my sudden crash-and-burnout and I'm just so sleepy and spent all the time. I look forward to the work day ending so I can go home and collapse on my bed. Fortunately, by the time I'm actually "free" I usually end up doing something slightly more productive. Last night I went for a walk with a friend, then did a batch of dishes, made some muffins for future breakfasting purposes for the rest of the week, and experimented with a low-point dessert recipe (it turned out okay, but I think I might tweak it a bit... I'm thinking peach instead of cherry, next time.) I wrote my post for tomorrow's blog swap and got it sent off; I caught up with a section of my Reader, fondly recalling the time I'd gotten through everything and brought the number of unread items down to zero. Seems unlikely that it would happen again. But it was the little victories that made me feel rather accomplished yesterday. I didn't really get anything DONE. I have a ton more dishes to do, and I've got clothing strewn about my apartment, and various boxes and other crap to get rid of or at least organize. My apartment is a mess. My head's a mess, too, so I guess that's only logical.
Still not quite over this whole random questioning-of-everything phase I seem to be going through. It's not a full-fledge existential crisis (yet) but I'm frustrated at the rut I seem to be in. I think the biggest problem is that I miss being creative. Back in college, it was required that I be creative every day. I miss that. What I want to do more than anything in the world right now, is run away from everything with my laptop and start hammering out some of these ideas that have been floating around in my head. I've got so many of them and I will never be content in my life until I write something of book-length and at least attempt to have it published somewhere. Unfortunately my current schedule isn't particularly conducive to any sort of serious writing. By the time I get home in the evenings, provided I don't have any other obligations or plans, I'm pretty beat. (See: second sentence of previous paragraph.) Granted, a lot of brilliant ideas come to me as I'm half-awake. (The other night, I decided that all of my bridesmaids will have glitter shoes too. Maybe black dresses and the shoe will be the accent color. Or if we do color dresses, then black glitter shoes. Why I am thinking of these things, I do not know, as I am about as single as they come, but I feel like it was a very important decision that has been made.) (I don't suppose this is a great example of the type of "brilliant" ideas I referred to, but I thought it was quite ingenious on my part. I'll have my damn wedding planned before I ever get my book written. Truth.)
Sometimes I wish I didn't have to work. I think I could be content as a kept trophy housewife... I could divert my anal-retentive focus to keeping the house clean (a clean house! of my very own! it's nonsense talk, I know)... and then I could spend the rest of my time either writing or pissing around on the Internet. BLISS. I need to find a rich man to marry. This much has become apparent. That, or I need to find some other means of becoming independently wealthy. My most likely option for this is to play the lottery. And yes, I do actually mean this is my most likely option. There are no other avenues for becoming filthy rich in my particular station in life. The miniscule odds of winning the Powerball jackpot are my very best option at this point. Which means I best keep my day job.
Life is hard, guys.
I've gotten off my original track, though, which is simply: I'm worried about everyone else. I can handle my own angst. I just don't like seeing it in other people. And right now I seem to be seeing it everywhere and it's vexing me greatly.