In other words: boring. Yes, I realize it's not being used exactly appropriately. But it's what pops into my brain every time I start to think, "Holy crap, my life is BORING." I think my epitaph could be, "Grand ambition, mediocre execution." Wasn't I going to travel around the country after the bar? Yeah. That didn't happen. I barely leave the house. And I'm actually a bit terrified of my trip to New Orleans next week. (See: Travel Anxiety) We don't have game tickets. I haven't booked a car to take us to BR. I'm afraid I'm suddenly gonna run out of money and be stranded in South Louisiana (there could be worse fates). What are we gonna do? Where are we gonna go? What are we gonna see? I don't know why I thought I could afford this in the first place, am cursing my own generosity and worried about getting paid back for the parts that I am supposed to get paid back for. In essence: grumble.
When did I become so anxious? So unlikely to throw caution to the wind? Is this grown up me?
I woke up today at 11. I couldn't drag myself out of bed 'til noon. I just wasn't feeling it. First of all, my muscles ache because my trainer kicked my ASS yesterday. (Wind sprints in soft sand. WHEE!) But...it's more than that. It's a fear of facing the future (November 19th circled on the calendar). It's a fear of knowing what I may or may not become. How this is all going to play out. It's a lot easier to just hide under the covers. Much much much easier. I pondered sending my old boss an email seeing if she needed help. I even drafted it. Then didn't send it. Oh gripping fear, you're AWESOME!
I don't really have a solution to any of this. I'm gonna keep working out because aiming for the body that I want makes me satisfied on some level. I am starting to notice tangible changes. Subtle, but tangible. I'm going to continue writing down my thoughts because that helps me parse everything out. I'm making it a goal to read more of the New Yorkers I get delivered every week and dive into a novel. I am attempting to bring order amidst the chaos that is my room. Cleanliness is next to godliness or some such. And I'm trying to have some faith that the trip to New Orleans will be just fine and not the giant cluster fuck I have now imagined it was in my head. Funny that not that long ago I was giddy excited about this trip and now I'm feeling anxious. What IS that about? I think it's about being responsible and in charge, a role I don't always relish, especially when I'm feeling a little out of my element. (One problem solved however: got two tickets to the game. Crap seats but INTO the stadium. Can always trade them if I find something better.)
Alright, off to do that gym thing for my sanity...
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