FishDreamer scribbles: Seeking Serenity Online

Wednesday, 13 April 2005

I'm here, now

I want to write, I have things to say, but I'm so tired all the time. I'm worn out, and I have no energy. I skipped fencing tonight because I kept falling asleep. I haven't recovered from the time change yet, and I am still expending probably too much energy figuring out what I want and why I'm so unhappy.

I have, so far, figured out that things as they are, are not what I want. This is not it. I am feeling neglected and alone and ignored. I feel unimportant. I feel like background. I don't mind being background in a lot of situations, but in my own life? No. I want more than this.

I also am pretty sure which direction I want to go in my career. I need to figure out how to get there from here, but I know I can do this and I'm pretty excited about it. Where I am now can be a step on that path, which is also good. Things are so unsettled right now for all of us, and it's painful but it's improving. I want to help make that happen, if I can. I could say more, I'm thinking more, but not here. I don't want to talk to work somewhere that I have no idea who's reading. (Which reminds me: Former boss, if you did figure it out, now would be a great time to tell me you're reading. Plus, can we talk? You know how to reach me.)

I had things to say, about how my body looks right now because of all the muscle building up underneath and how that changes the way the skin and fat above it moves. And about the books I'm reading (Neil Gaiman is wonderful and I love his work). And about the knitting I've been doing, and how I'm going to Sacramento next month, and we're getting new windows and maybe some other work done on the house. About how it's that time of the month again, which isn't helping me not be exhausted all the time. And about how uncertain and unclear it all is, and how I don't understand my relationship with Mr D or what he wants from me or really if he even wants anything from me.

I'm lonely. I'm kind of bored, in between the tired. Sometimes I think life is just like this, where you're responsible for your own happiness and it's not all perfect and wonderful but it's still worth living. Is this settling? Or is this reality? I have a hard time telling. I don't really like too much excitement or change in my life, but I'm not sure how I feel about having none. (Well, if that's what this is, then I don't like it.)

But I'm too tired to draw any inferences or even conclusions from this. Mr D is getting sick with something. I woke up feeling like the Cold Hammer had bashed me in the head last night. I need to remember to take the allergy medicine, because it makes a big difference.

I feel like I'm whining and boring, but if I'm not allowed to do that here then I can't do it anywhere. This is, after all, my online journal. If you want me to write about something specific, please email and let me know. I can't guarantee I'll write about it, but I'd love the input and feedback. In the meantime, the cat is trying to catch my typing fingers and I think I'll go to bed now. Best cure for tired is sleep, right?

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