Whinging with no discernible benefit
I’m in a very strange emotional state at the moment, which is one of the reasons I haven’t written in a while. I feel unaccountably sad, sort of unreal - as though something was missing. I don’t know what it is though, and I’ve been feeling like this for months.
Work isn’t the easiest at the moment, but much better than it was, and certainly no reason to be feeling strange. I have a lovely husband, family, friends, mouse-quiet non-homicidal neighbours, food on the table, faith in God and, since Dad bought me a GHD for my birthday, no hair worries whatsoever. It’s not depression - I know what that feels like and this isn’t it.
So what is it? I have a shadow of an idea - that it’s something to do with not knowing what’s happening next year - either I stay where I am and fester just a bit, or move countries and get thrown wildly out of my comfort zone. I’m leaning towards wanting to do the latter, and perhaps it’s just that everything feels quite temporary right now. Every time I do something to the house I think ‘What’s the point? I might be tearing it down in six months’. It’s sort of a weird way to live. Oh, and last night I made churros with chocolate sauce and they SUCKED. Doughy little gobbets of crispy deep-fried nothing. (Although crispy fried nothing with chocolate on it is always better than, say, baked nothing or steamed nothing without chocolate on it. Let’s be clear about that.)
Oh, who knows. I’m going to go home and read Job (the book of the Bible, not the careers pages) and count my blessings.
Work isn’t the easiest at the moment, but much better than it was, and certainly no reason to be feeling strange. I have a lovely husband, family, friends, mouse-quiet non-homicidal neighbours, food on the table, faith in God and, since Dad bought me a GHD for my birthday, no hair worries whatsoever. It’s not depression - I know what that feels like and this isn’t it.
So what is it? I have a shadow of an idea - that it’s something to do with not knowing what’s happening next year - either I stay where I am and fester just a bit, or move countries and get thrown wildly out of my comfort zone. I’m leaning towards wanting to do the latter, and perhaps it’s just that everything feels quite temporary right now. Every time I do something to the house I think ‘What’s the point? I might be tearing it down in six months’. It’s sort of a weird way to live. Oh, and last night I made churros with chocolate sauce and they SUCKED. Doughy little gobbets of crispy deep-fried nothing. (Although crispy fried nothing with chocolate on it is always better than, say, baked nothing or steamed nothing without chocolate on it. Let’s be clear about that.)
Oh, who knows. I’m going to go home and read Job (the book of the Bible, not the careers pages) and count my blessings.