This place
My gods, LJ is like... the old diary you kept under your bed where you wrote your crush's last name next to your endlessly, kept locks of their hair, and drew pictures of a future you desperately hoped for but even at 15 knew it wouldn't happen the way you pictured.
And I'm back again. Because I'm spiraling. This is my safe place. I'm amused that no one seems to know or remember about it. Like the newer older version of MySpace (which I think has become cool again?). It's the obviousness of hiding in plain sight.
But it doesn't matter why I'm here. Just that I am. At least for today.
And today was bad. I'm losing focus, beating myself up about work. COVID has been around for nearly six months and I'm going stir crazy with all the changes. I'm risking things to fly my mom out (which is it's own danger, I think). All this because of a virus. Something so small and deadly. Reminds me of how Chris used to talk about the cat.
So, today is bad. And I'm at this computer because I thought maybe if I could just take one work thing off my list I would feel better. But I'm procrastinating. Again. Even the easy things seem daunting. And honestly, nothing seems easy. I feel like so many people are ahead and I'm just flailing between old job and new. I need people to take over more, but I'm so loathe to give up what I was good at. I need to get back to reading The First 90 Days.
Personal to-do list:
* Read The First 90 Days
* Get my art bookshelves sorted and cleared out (maybe moved)
* Find a way to meditate or something every day - there's enough apps, I could use them...
There's so much more, but it's overshadowed by this sense that I'm bombing at life. And the hard conversations keep happening and I'm just done and over it. I want my mom here to provide perspective. Even though I know it will be biased, at least it'll be some version of the truth; even the hard stuff.
One work thing. Get it done.