There's no better way to put it. Today I've run the gamut - from calm to sad to ecstatic to hopeless to confident to crushed and back again sixteen times. I don't have much to explain these wild swings, other than this: This is the first whole week I've spent not working or having a job since March. That week didn't go so good either.
Of course I'm choosing this. I've been choosing it from the start. I decided to leave the job in the first place, I could be picking up more shifts at the coffee shop, I could (and probably should) be hounding my employment agency agent and applying for other jobs on top of it. But I don't want to. The lack of structure and income are making me go out of my goddamn mind, but the thought of "working" or "having a job" makes me a lil bit sick to my stomach. Basically I'm impossible.
I've set myself up a neat little conundrum in which it is impossible for me to be happy. Way to go me! Hey, you gotta do what you're good at, that's what I always say. And lord knows shooting myself in the foot and being my own worst enemy are some of my top skills.
Of course I could also choose to apply some structure to my unemployed life. There's no reason that I can't set a schedule for myself, make "appointments" at my studio or for other things and keep them as if I'm as important to myself as other people are. But I've been down this road. Many, many times, actually. And yes, I could make the schedule. But I probably wouldn't keep it.
Sometimes I just want to strangle myself for being so f*cking difficult. It seemed like I was doing so well there for a minute too; for like three or four days I really thought I was pulling myself together. Now I'm sliding back into a state much like the one I was in before I went to New Orleans. No good, no good at all. Really I'm going to need to get the hell over it. I have things to do.
I'll work on it this weekend. I'll plot out the week, what still needs to get done for the event. I'll prioritize. I'll remember to get up from my desk so that I don't get the shooting pains in my hands and arms and legs. I'll leave the house before 7pm. I'll eat - actual food. Damnit. I don't know why I'm finding daily life so hard right now. It's times like this that I wish I could forget about everything that I want to create. It seems like it would be so much easier to be content with a more straightforward life. But I can't forget it, and it's useless to try. So instead I'll try to get up before noon tomorrow, and that will be a start.