2023-03-05 Journal Entry

🍃 Season: ❄️ Winter 🔆 Weekday: Sunday 🗓 Date: March 5, 2023 📅 Week: Feb 27 – Mar 5, 2023

I’m writing today out of a weird mix of anger and sadness. I mostly just feel really tired, which isn’t surprising given how much I’ve been walking today, and normally that makes me feel happier. Today I just feel sad. I’m tired.

I largely feel angry because I feel like I did the right things today. I got up and went on a walk. I meditated. I read. And yet I just feel tired and stressed. Stressed because I didn’t really do anything at work the last two days, and now I feel a little terrible about it because I’d like to have something for tomorrow. So I’ll probably have to do something tonight. Also mad because I’m not writing, but that’s more out of exhaustion than anything. I’m here writing right now aren’t I? So that’s better than nothing, I still have the little nugget of want-to-write inside of me. Maybe a nap would do me some good. Maybe the sunday scaries are real.

I feel like the fact that I got promoted makes me resent my job even more now. What’s different this time is that it’s not so much that I hate this particular job and feel like a different, albeit similar, job would be more fulfilling. That’s what I felt like at HubSpot. I felt like the work I was doing was boring, but that there was still interesting work to do in the field. Now I feel like I just want to quit tech entirely. It sucks. The whole field feels ridiculous. We’re just finding new ways to move money around. Who gives a fuck about that.

I don’t really even want to be bitter. I want to feel expansive. I feel small, ugly, pitied. Mostly pitied by myself. I feel like I’m being crushed.

I think I really do need to sleep, actually, now that I’m sitting here. I’m just so fucking tired of it all, but a lot of that is in there literal way. But let’s finish these pages first.

I wonder if my morning routine isn’t really paying off. I’m struggling to keep it up, and I find myself sleeping in more often than I actually make that 5am wake-up call. I think part of that is why I’m so tired — it’s because I’m a night owl by nature, and I like huddling over my laptop at midnight with a cup of tea. I like the idea of doing what you want first though, which is one of the reasons I hate having a day job. I want to work noon to eight pm or something. Maybe I should just move to Hawaii or in some remote part of Alaska and that would work out.

I have thought quite a bit about moving though. I worry that I’m simply restless and that moving doesn’t get me anything. When I think about why I’d move, it’s really just being cheaper. There’s also a bit of an allure of having less to do, so I can spend more time writing. Isn’t that a little weird though? Forcing yourself to write by not giving yourself other options? That’s learning no lessons from the Jonwayne song, “am I learning about living just to wrap about life? That’s some backwards commitment!”

I’d like to complete one (1) short story before I ever expose myself as a writer. Why is that hard. It’s hard partially because it just takes an assload of time. Even just setting the scene feels like a lot to me, because I can’t really see it yet. In some cases I kinda can, but I feel so impatient.

I also don’t feel like I know enough about where things really go. I know the answer is that I don’t need to, but part of my mind really wants to. It wants exit criteria. It wants to know when something’s done. That’s some bullshit. Fuck you, brain.

How the fuck did I finish these in the past. 1500 words is so long. I’m not even halfway done and I’m so distracted. I just want to sleep, I think. I’m in that midafternoon slump right now. Good bye computer, I’m sick of this. Peace out. I love you. You’re not inferior to anyone, no matter what you feel. I’ll see you in the morning.