So today
I’m going to complain about something that I shouldn’t complain about: Work
“How dare you? At least you have a job.” Screams the voices in my head. “But it’s so boring!” I shout back in despair.
I’m a receptionist. I’ve been at my current job for a year and a half now. At first it was kinda ok. I was learning a few new things, but now it’s all so frustratingly boring. I have way too much free time and nothing is exciting or challenging anymore. Just the same crap each day. I long for the days to be over and the weekend to come and save me, but for what? I have no social life to speak of either. I often question the point of my existence. I’m nearing the big 30 and have accomplished nothing of significance in my years.
I remember feeling like this at one time in my youth too, so utterly alone and lost and without purpose. I used to wish something would happen, anything that would bring about change in my monotonous state of being. I would imagine horrific accidents and near death experiences sometimes. Is that weird? There were the odd happy fantasies but mostly they were dark and intense.
When the depression hit me after a few good years of living the high life of hypo mania life, I yearned for those boring days. Those days where I didn’t have to fight this ugly monster on my own and with no weapons.
Life is a lot more balanced now except for the odd wobbly here and there. I’m doing ok but sitting and doing almost nothing all day is really sucking the life out of me. Each day I die a little more.
What is actually surprising me is the fact that I have not gone into a tailspin over the fact that I might be without a job in the next few months. The old me would have freaked out and thought the world was ending. Maybe I’m in denial and it will hit me one day soon. For now I’m just going about my life as normal.
Sorry if this post is a bit all over the place, my head feels a bit like a shaken snow globe.
p3rmy 