So. Again. The reoccurrence. I am so very tired of this. I am so very tired. I don’t sleep at night, so I can’t get up in the morning, and even if I was sleeping I would still want to sleep all day because bed is safe and warm and if I am asleep then I can forget about all the things that I should be doing (except that instead, I dream about them).
These are the things on my mind right now:
- Getting together the rest of the swag that I’m responsible for and then putting together the swag-bags for the GirlGeek Dinners tomorrow night.
- Speaking about my career at the dinner tomorrow night. You know, that career.
- Much much much paperwork at work that I have not done because I’ve been worrying more about the Big Picture
- The small remaining details of the Big Picture at work which seem to have no end.
- My assessment at work tomorrow. The predicted verdict: it would probably be helpful if I was at work more often. And more paperwork needs to get done. Which is where the ability to get out of bed would be nice.
- All the things that I should be doing to enable me to get out of bed a little easier, but because I’m not doing them I don’t feel like I’m entitled to go and talk to a counsellor about it, and so it goes.
- The creative projects that I have bubbling over in my head right now. I need my next paycheque so I can proceed with these. Or at least with the domain names
- The neglecting of all my current projects in favour of staying in bed/lying on the couch staring at the TV
- Social things coming up like KateH and Heather coming down, and the Wairarapa Harvest Festival, all of which I am looking forward to, but which will require me to be peppy and functional.
- Ideas kicking around in my head for a sorely-needed work function to build inter-team bonds
- The many many bills that I need to pay.
- The many errands that need to be run – getting a new prescription, taking the microwave in for fixing, getting my warrant. I need a PA to coordinate this kind of shit. Essentially, I’m just so fucking tired of having to take responsibility for my own life. Not in like, a mortal way. I just wish that someone would make me up in the morning, and give me a coffee, tell me what I was going to wear that day, and drive me to work. Then they could pick me up via the supermarket where we’d buy vegetables that I’d eat, make sure Sebastian has flea treatments, and tell me when my schedule’s overlapping so that I don’t overbook myself. Even just a couple of days with someone working like that for me would be great. I don’t understand how it is that people manage to function all the time with looking after themselves. I would like to book myself a couple of nights at a house in the country, but I can’t take time of work until we’ve launched and that’s settled and oh, nuts, it’s just all errrrrrrgh.
But it’s funny though, if you talk to me, if you see me, I will be doing my very best to pretend that none of this is going on. Or I will pick one thing, and roll my eyes about it, and make some lame joke. Last week one of my friends I hadn’t seen in ages told me that she was making more of an effort to say no to people, so I decided for my homework I’d try to say no at least once over the past week. Instead I seem to have picked up more projects and things to do. Maybe I am on the wrong medication. Maybe I should go back on fluoxetine so I can think about nothing instead of thinking about everything. But I don’t think that’s a very good idea. I failed today at going for a swim (my body is aching from doing nothing because my mind is a cage that keeps me from
dancing with the one I love functioning properly) and also at cleaning the bathroom and kitchen. But at least I have the Mighty Boosh on divx to watch. And Australia’s Next Top Model was on last night, exciting! Not to mention hundreds of episodes of The Simpsons which are very handy for sleeping through.