It’s 2:12 pm in the afternoon. I’m supposed to have a job interview for a full time HR position at 3pm today. I canceled. Something inside told me it wasn’t worth the trip.
I haven’t written a thing in… days? A week or two maybe? I’m not even sure. My stories stay frozen in time. And I don’t even want to think about drafting another dead end idea for a novel. I haven’t had the heart to do anything. A lot went on this month. To save time, I’ll sum it up in a list. In the month of November (which is still not over so who knows what surprises are still in store):
- I drained all the money in my bank account because I found out I owed my school some money that I hadn’t realized. Bye bye rainy day account. But that’s okay. What’s security anyways?
- I wrote my research paper for my HR class and at the last moment decided not to turn it in. That was 2 weeks ago. And I think the final exam for that class is today too, but I guess I’m not doing that either. Even with an A in the class the last time I checked, I doubt I’d pass now.
- I felt relief, then guilt, then anger, then it cycled back again.
- I left my church and tried a new one.
- I dusted off the type A hat in the dark closet of my mind and put it on. (I had to go to a potluck where everyone I met was super Type A personality.) The hat fit fine and I felt stylish in it. But after a few days, I realized my Type B sweatshirt was much more comfortable.
- I experienced for the first time what it was like to feel like a minority in America and to be powerless next an authority who held all the cards. And I was just a by standing witness.
- I held it together…
- and then I didn’t.
I don’t know what kind of picture this paints for the reader. Because the reader is not me, who wants to talk about my problems but also doesn’t want to dig around in them. Sometimes my head goes on a rant and doesn’t stop. It starts to sound really whiny after a while. After all, who am I to complain? A lot of people go through the same things. Everyone worries about the future, everyone goes into a slump here and there, nobody has real security, and everybody either moves forward or stops. If it wasn’t obvious already, I’m the latter. I wish I were one of the ones who are still moving, still pushing, still swimming against the current with purpose. But I felt like I’ve been going in circles all this time. So I slowed down. And eventually, that turned to not moving at all.
And now that I’ve stopped, I’m not sure I remember how to move.
It’s probably just soon-to-graduate depression, right? Just an extra thing to overcome with time?… I had more to say. Something with a point to it, but I seem to have forgotten. So I’ll end here for today.
My sign off –
Real Life drags me out of bed by the ankles and my fingers cling to the frame in protest.