wishing for a transition
It seems to be that time again, when all I think about is what I am not doing. In my dreamlike version of myself, I am able to "be happy in the moment", you know, like you read on coffee mugs and yoga mats. Real life Carrin has always seen the worst of the situation, in some vague attempt at making it better. A cynic and snarky, she undermines all the happiness that I know I could feel if I weren't so trained to notice all the wrong.
In between jobs, again, I find myself going through the same old mental hooplah. Why am I unemployed when there are projects going on in Austin right now? It feels like high school, always friendly to everyone, but not really truly part of any group dynamic. Honestly, that feels like all the time between those youthful days and now. Always with my toe dipped in the water of friends and family and work and art and, and, and. But all those things just get a toe, because there are so many things and all of them need some sort of checking in. Dreamworld Carrin is planning a major assault on Jack-Of-All-Trades-Master-Of-Nothing Carrin. She thinks that more proogress can be made once the fat is trimmed, once the extranious activities are cut to the quick. So, soon, I will cut myself off from many of the little hobbies that I find I love, but that seem to take a lot of energy and time, like crafting. I will go through my work room and get rid of anything that does not pertain to artwork (drawing, painting, wood working) or sewing clothes (not costumes). That's a lot of fluff soon to leave my work space. We'll see.
My body has been put through it's paces in an effort to keep the usualy depression that comes between jobs at bay. The gym is truly an ugly place. Despite all human fuel being burned in an effort to be beautiful, I rarely ever see any true beauty. But, it serves it's purpose. While I am battling a full on, almost 40 bulge, that no amount of exercise seems to make a dent in, my brain seems to be enjoying it. No depression this time, not so far.
I'm finally getting around to taking care of some of the physical problems that have been plagueing me. My wrist is a big one. I was so sure that I had carpel tunnel, had even previously been diagnosed with it, but it seems that it not the case. Instead it severe discomfort I feel in my hand and wrist could stem from an old shoulder injury. Big annoying mess. My periods have started to become seriously painful again, and I'm going to talk to my doc about having my uterus removed. It seems like a big step, but it's been many many years that I've dealt with unbearable pain and I am clearly not using my uterus for it's intended purpose, so it's become a considered option.
I have too many fires burning, some old and smoldering, some newly kindled. I have to learn to tend just one, and hopefully pick the right one.
In between jobs, again, I find myself going through the same old mental hooplah. Why am I unemployed when there are projects going on in Austin right now? It feels like high school, always friendly to everyone, but not really truly part of any group dynamic. Honestly, that feels like all the time between those youthful days and now. Always with my toe dipped in the water of friends and family and work and art and, and, and. But all those things just get a toe, because there are so many things and all of them need some sort of checking in. Dreamworld Carrin is planning a major assault on Jack-Of-All-Trades-Master-Of-Nothing Carrin. She thinks that more proogress can be made once the fat is trimmed, once the extranious activities are cut to the quick. So, soon, I will cut myself off from many of the little hobbies that I find I love, but that seem to take a lot of energy and time, like crafting. I will go through my work room and get rid of anything that does not pertain to artwork (drawing, painting, wood working) or sewing clothes (not costumes). That's a lot of fluff soon to leave my work space. We'll see.
My body has been put through it's paces in an effort to keep the usualy depression that comes between jobs at bay. The gym is truly an ugly place. Despite all human fuel being burned in an effort to be beautiful, I rarely ever see any true beauty. But, it serves it's purpose. While I am battling a full on, almost 40 bulge, that no amount of exercise seems to make a dent in, my brain seems to be enjoying it. No depression this time, not so far.
I'm finally getting around to taking care of some of the physical problems that have been plagueing me. My wrist is a big one. I was so sure that I had carpel tunnel, had even previously been diagnosed with it, but it seems that it not the case. Instead it severe discomfort I feel in my hand and wrist could stem from an old shoulder injury. Big annoying mess. My periods have started to become seriously painful again, and I'm going to talk to my doc about having my uterus removed. It seems like a big step, but it's been many many years that I've dealt with unbearable pain and I am clearly not using my uterus for it's intended purpose, so it's become a considered option.
I have too many fires burning, some old and smoldering, some newly kindled. I have to learn to tend just one, and hopefully pick the right one.