I tend to go between days/weeks of feeling optimistic and then horribly forlorn. Today was a bad one. Nothing sounds good to eat or drink or watch or do. After seven hours of fake-smiling at work tonight, I lie on the couch feeling utterly… blank. I work to live and live to work and at the end of each month, I have nothing but another month’s rent and bills paid to show for myself. I’m exhausted.
I work so hard to have things to look forward to. Constantly planning and scribbling in my calendar so I get that one day or that one moment where I truly do feel happy. It seems that every present moment is spent thinking about how I can make my future feel better than it does right now. Tonight, I’m done reaching. Done. I’m just going to lie here and breathe, but not wanting to. Some decisions you don’t make, and some things you just can’t fake.