I really should have known that adjusting to a new position would hinder my ability to write as often as I'd like. However, I'm getting better at the job and just adjusting in general - not that the job is that hard or that stressful, just that things need adjusted to, I guess, so I've been coming home for 3 months with no desire to cook or write or interact with humans or do anything other than watch tv or play video games. And that's ok.
I sometimes worry that being ok with my own laziness will carry me away. My mom always complains that I'm not "ambitious," but I do like to always be looking for that "next thing" - graduated HS, next is college; out of college, next is job; have husband, next is baby; have job, next is promotion; have degree, next is grad school - and on and on ad infinitum. It is so. gorram. hard. for me to just enjoy life at the point it is now. It's partially Adventure! and partially Anxiety! and partially Boredom! - no, wait, just boredom. Stillness is not in my nature. So to sit and chill seems like a great concession for me.
At the same time, movement for the sake of movement hardly counts as anything. That's what I feel like I'm doing. The next thing, the next thing, the next thing - what is that thing? Doesn't matter. It's Next. New. Different. Sometimes I feel like a hamster on a wheel. And when a hamster climbs off the wheel and chills with his water bottle in his little blue plastic hut, has he deserved his rest?
IDK, MAN!
I fear that I am too careful with myself. Since finding out about my mental illness, since I started getting migraines, I give myself permission to rest. I let myself rely on Husband for things that stress me out (like leaving the house - I go to work, I come home. He does the shopping, he runs the errands, etc.). I give myself permission to flake out on plans when having friends is just too much for me. It's true that I have some conditions, and it's true that I work hard, and it's true that I have been perhaps too self-reliant for too long, but I worry that if I give myself enough leeway, I'll collapse into a pile of useless mush or something. (That happens to people, right?)
THEN AGAIN, I got a new job, then a year later, got a promotion. I'm only 3 months in. I'm just now getting to the point of comfortableness, and I'm coming back out of my shell a little. Adjustment is hard, and it's been a busy year-or-so for adjustments. Maybe I need to lay off myself.
Anyway, here's my latest slew of quarter-life crises for your enjoyment:
