I just need time to...stop passing. I need some time for me. Just me. No one else.
I've been in this new apartment for over a month, and I don't have a fucking couch. Because I have not positioned a couch, I have not erected bookshelves. Because I have not erected bookshelves, I cannot see all my books, which I have previously declared "keep me sane." I don't have my DVDs prominently displayed because I'm not exactly sure what to put them on. I've had a new computer for almost a month and haven't switched to it yet because I haven't had the time to find a safe way to transfer my data over, and I haven't emotionally prepared myself to leave the computer I've been using for over three years.
I wake up, and I go to work. Work is incredibly busy and stressful because I've got important deadlines to meet in the next couple months, and I'm pretty behind, which is partly my fault and partly totally not my fault, but still partly my fault because I need to learn how to be more assertive and proactive about completing projects assigned to me. I need to realize that despite being only twenty-five, I am someone with an important job in the company, and I have a fucking business card, so I do have every right to harangue people older and more experienced if they're impeding me from making progress on my own work. I come home, and I have maybe an hour or so to relax before I have to make dinner and eat dinner before settling in for the night's television, followed by, on select nights, writing and reading about the night's television. And by that time, I'm far too tired to do anything at all, so I go to sleep. Last night, I lay down to listen to some music and woke up five hours later with the lights and music still on. Meanwhile, somewhere in the middle of this, I need to take care of my MI.net responsibilities. Also, I'm supposed to brush and floss every night so I don't develop periodontal disease, but oral hygiene doesn't seem like a priority when the bed is so inviting. And I haven't shaved since...I don't remember.
I need to learn how to manage my time. Because all I want to do when I'm not working is not work. I want to lie down and listen to music. Watch TV. Get away from everything. I need to learn how to manage my money. Because I'm actually making it on a decent scale, and I don't need to be as goddamn stingy as I was when I living off a graduate stipend or my savings. I need to learn how to spend money. I need to learn how to spend money on other people. I need to understand that if I want a couch worth sitting on, it's going to cost me a few hundred dollars, and that's just the way it is. Living costs money. I'm not going to go broke if I go out to lunch once in a while.
I don't remember the last time I went to a doctor. Now that I have health insurance, I need to go to the doctor. I need to find out what's wrong with me, even though I don't want to know. I don't want to know how unhealthy my lifestyle is because I don't want to change it. But I am in terrible shape and probably underweight, and I need to do something about that if I want to age gracefully. I need to learn how to cook real food.
I'm supposedly an adult. Shouldn't I be able to sort my fucking life out? Why does it require so much work? And why don't they give you enough time to get everything done that needs to be done? I knew the whole "independence" thing had a catch.
For those of you who don't give a fuck about my personal woes, here's some token TV talk:
( Smallville and Supernatural...vs. Veronica MarsCollapse )
You know, I got this Chocolate Truffle ice cream because I thought I would like truffles, but then I remembered that I don't actually like truffles because they have this funny sweet taste to them, and I blech every time I have to bite into a truffle piece even though I like the chocolate ice cream, but I have to finish this so I can get to the Mocha Almond Fudge, which I know I'll like for sure, and, you guys, THERE IS EVEN ANGST IN MY ICE CREAM.