June 02, 2003 - 2:39 p.m.
Time Lender
I keep telling myself it's not that bad: working 7 days a week, two jobs... I'm always busy - that's ok. I'm being productive. I'm doing it all for myself, no one else. I should feel good about how hard I'm working.
But I can't shake off the fuzziness in my brain - the feeling like my days and weeks and months are one big mush of unsatisfying blah. I need more time... I'm not any closer to getting out of debt... I guess the one plus is that I've been able to afford the gas money to go back and forth between my jobs and the sweetness that is lying in Boris' arms.
I gave my notice today. It was hard, but I was just honest, simple and honest. Now where? I'm back to the old dilemna: too many god damned choices. I think I rather like backing myself into a corner because at least it limits the directions I have open to me. Now, it's all open again... Where's the fairy that will just offer perfection, so I can quit deciding on the "least worst" options? I want to build my life, and I want it to be solid from the foundation, to the roof, with plenty of beautiful airy views, a window seat where I can read books, and dreamy cuddle nooks, a kitchen with cupboards never bare, a huge bath tub, a tree to climb, where it's quiet unless it's noise that I want to make...
So why do I feel like my feet have been dipped in cement? Where are the things I'm seeking? Are they right in front of me? Do I just need to learn how to grab them? Nothing's impossible, but I'm so damned impatient.
