Sometimes I just forget to do simple things. Simple things like eating regularly or getting enough sleep. Like taking my meds daily or wearing my occlusal device (which is just a fancy name for a mouth guard) to prevent my compulsive nighttime tooth grinding. I mean it’s not like I don’t want to eat. I LOVE food for chrissake, just not when I have to make it for myself. Now that could be part of the problem. When left on my own, the most I’ll ever “make” is a beeline for the fridge to rake through what’s available in leftovers + 2 minutes in the microwave. Ok, I have been known to crack open a can of tuna fish adding mayo and sugar (don’t you judge me) and, if I have them, carrots and onions but since I don’t really buy fresh food often enough that last part doesn’t usually work out. I guess in my mind, if it takes longer to MAKE the food than to EAT the food, then it’s just not worth it. This does not apply to meals made FOR me, because I will eat those without complaints.
Exposing my shoddy cooking skills wasn’t where I was going with this. To be honest, I wasn’t really GOING anywhere with this post anyway. You see, I’ve been in this weird kind of funk where I feel generally unproductive and lethargic and just BLAH. I haven’t really felt incited to do much of anything since we’ve been settled in our new home. I think all the craziness over the last few weeks/months took a major toll on my brain meat. I’m just EX-HAUSTED. Allllllll. the. time. exhausted and where I would normally be buzzing around getting things done, lately I can’t seem to be bothered. The dishes? Leave ’em. Laundry? What’s wrong with what I’ve got on? I changed my underwear last week. WHAT? Go for a walk? Sorry, can’t. Forgot how.
At work I was presented with the task of taking on a department-wide monthly newsletter. This was met with a healthy grin and multiple emphatic head nods on my part but inside I felt little more than ho-hum at the prospect of this new task. In truth, I would rather be busy here than bored (like usual) but even a project seemingly right up my alley brings little joy to my altogether joyless outlook at the workplace. It seems like I’m just complaining about my job YET AGAIN and in a way that’s exactly what I’m doing only now it’s not just about my job. My lack of motivation and excitement has begun to seep into my personal life as well. Sooooooooo, not really an improvement. Just a more balanced level of melancholia. Shit.
I need an attitude adjustment. Or something. Maybe a green tea colonic would help. It can’t be as heinously awful as it sounds. Right?