This weekend has been ridiculous. I’ve been floating in between crises at work and trying to be ready for moving this week. It’s been less than a full success and, at times, I feel as if I’m going to literally just crawl into a ball and cry my eyes out. I haven’t felt like this in a long time. It’s gotten to the point that I’m questioning my career choice and my chosen path in that career choice. I think it’s safe to say that the honeymoon with my job is over.
I’ve been stressed out at this job before. But I’ve never felt so utterly disdainful of my work there until this weekend. And I feel guilty for it, which is even worse. I have a job that I wanted. Hell, I have a job that I would have pushed my mom down a flight of stairs for. Tonight, sitting exhausted on the couch and preparing to go to bed by 10 p.m. so I can wake up at 5 a.m., I’m feeling less than enthusiasticly loyal.
Last week I was screwing around on the internet at work during a slow period and I stumbled upon this joint PhD program at UofM in Women’s Studies and Literature. I think it’s totally not practical, but goddamn would I love to do that.
So I’ve been thinking–is school my safe zone? Do I retreat to learning when doing isn’t going well? Because right now a few sylabi and some text books would calm my nerves like hot cocoa on a cold winter’s day. I don’t think that’s normal.
Maybe once we settle in The House I’ll feel better. I even met some neighbors today and they were really cool and nice.
I think I need a new hobby. Worrying is taking too much out of me.