(no subject)

[omnia_mutantur]

It's still hard to put words to things or things to words, which is unsettling, since that's usually half of my refuge or respite.

Increasingly scared of giving notice, which seems to translate into one of three trains of thoughts. One, that no one will ever hire me ever again. Two, it will mess up my relationship. Three, I don't deserve to not be miserable 8+ hours a day. (there's some tangential thoughts related to the third, about either social perception or good old fashioned protestant self-flagellation, but I think it boils down to the same thing)

But I have new glasses, exciting plans for the next couple weekends and a wide open future. I'm not very good at faith, but I think I'd like to have some. Until then, maybe I should just fake it. Something good will come of this, I hope, even if I can only imagine the bad things.

I'm excited by things the future might hold, but dwelling on them seems like trying to jinx myself, but the only other path my mind seems willing to take is to dwell on the misery that will be giving notice and the time between giving notice and walking out of the building, or all the things that could go wrong afterward.

I am all over the place, and keep typing things and deleting them and typing them again, subtly different, only to erase the whole thing. I'm not sure why I'm silencing myself, but my thoughts seem more hamsterwheel than usual even for me. So instead, I shall go caramelize a great many onions for dinner.

Comments

[bryiarrose.livejournal.com]

oh so familliar, so much of this.
a quote i once called my favorite, comes out of a peter pan story by j.m barrie:

"The reason birds can fly and we can't is simply that they have perfect faith, for to have faith is to have wings."

still, on occasion i feel i might need fairy dust.