PS

I'm super not excited to go home to my not so clean apartment. I hope I have good things DVR-ed so I can continue the healthy cycle of going to bed late and not being able to get up for work in the morning.

Welcome to the Realization that You are Everyone Else

Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the unhappiest of them all? Why is it that work is making me so unhappy? Is it because I have found other things that do make me happy that I want to spent time doing, that in some ways I feel that I have returned to myself and now work Sarah doesn't fit in any more? The job clearly provides no internal satisfaction and it is sappy any energy that I had to do other things with my time. Its 10:03 and I'm still at the office, too mentally exhausted to talk about why today was so shitty (basically, stupid pro bono case, feeling like I gave bad advice, feeling like people think I'm too insecure about my job, being here at 10:03, not quite knowing what tomorrow is going to bring but knowing that it is going to be another week and a half of 11 pm nights in the office). And I can't turn it off. There are so many responsibilities (as opposed to assignments, now they are my responsibilities, not just things that I have to do for other people) that I can't turn it off at night or I work until I need to sleep, and I fall asleep thinking about what I have to still do and what I will spend the whole next day doing. I have been having this sensation when I fall asleep that I have lost the day - that I don't remember what happened during the day, but that I know that I missed it. Its new and different from the sensation that is just normal "wow, I'm half asleep" and I really do feel like I am losing time. It like that poem that Brian wrote about the phone ringing and waking you up and you are 30. I know that isn't going to happen to me (well, it almost has - I turn 29 this year and feel like I have regressed emotionally and I am no closer to being the adult self that I want to be), because I think and worry about not being that person every minute of every day, which just makes it worse since I worry about being that person and about my job, so I don't have a break. I can't just dissolve into the work, because then, at least I would wake up at 30 or 35 and not have spend that last three to seven years worrying about waking up. Maybe I should write a romance novel. I've got to be a better writer than half the people out there who are publishing and then I would be able to make my own schedule and it would be like pretend working. Probably not, real life doesn't allow you to pretend work, but that's what I really want to do. Have a job that lets me relax and take lots of vacations and read and cook. But its a fantasy that every working person probably entertains and no one really actually gets to live out. So clearly I'm not special at all - I'm not unique in my escape fantasies. Okay, back to reading all these cases so I can go home and maybe go for a run so I stop the mad rush of fat to my stomach, thighs and hips. Jeez, you might as well call me any middle aged woman living in America. Message to Sarah: you are not special, nothing you are experiencing makes you unique. Welcome to normal. Le sigh.