outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 800 paychecks to go It's time to write again. I've both hawed and hemmed about it, since although it's been a couple months at least, I'm not so sure I want to lay out in public the kind of things I'm needing to talk over with myself. Not that's it's hugely dramatic or anything. Just not hugely positive. What I wonder, more or less, if there is something fundamentally un-satisfiable about me. Can't be happy, that kind of thing. Nothing's ever good enough. Try to make some kind of change to solve a problem, create a new problem. Also, this: I keep thinking I'm a better person than I am, and being proven wrong. By myself. I have this inner narrative that vacillates like mad. So smart! So creative! So boring! So lazy! And I really, really can't tease the two voices apart. Or it's all one voice that can't make up its mind. Or I just suck and am great in equal measure. I'm not unhappy exactly, I'm just not happy. I'm getting fatter again. I feel incompetent at work. I feel lazy at home. I feel crowded most everywhere I go. When we were living in Nebraska, I thought I'd feel better and be healthier living in California, doing something that didn't require me to teach everyday but afforded me the opportunity to do so occasionally. But I don't actually feel any better off. Am I? Well, for one, I am not as in love with what I'm doing as I initially thought, which shouldn't be a surprise really. After all, nothing is ever as amazing as you think it will be when you're interviewing, right? It is nice to work with a bunch of young, motivated people who all care about education. It is nice, after Nebraska, to be close to any old thing you could want. I can walk to the grocery store now, where before I had to drive a half hour or more to get produce. We live at the foot of a mountain now, compared to, well - you may be familiar with Nebraska's reputation for flatness. I see the ocean almost every day. Never get to be near it, exactly, but I can look down on it. The views from the various places I find myself throughout the day never cease to amaze. So, what the fuck then? It's not perfect. There is a metric butt-ton of people here. I'm still learning my job. Our apartment is tiiiiny. But nice. And temporary. Maybe that's what it is. (Probably not though.) When I'm at work, in the ninth meeting of the day, up to my eyeballs in "what the fuck am I supposed to be doing right now", I always have an eye on my personal email account, waiting for an email that will get me out of here. (It's been long enough that I don't expect that email to come anymore.) I don't know what my issue is. I just want to get out of doing all the things I need to do. Not because there are other things I'd rather do - I just don't want to do anything. That's not true. I want to do what I like. I want to write, and hike, and go to the beach, and sing. So yeah. I'm 35, and I'm ready to retire. Ugh. 9:18 p.m. - 2015-03-14 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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