Saturday, June 25, 2011

Set fire to the rain

Okay, okay. I'm awake, I am.

Opting to eat my breakfast on the side of the road, facing the office, as opposed to sitting inside the Hong Kong Cafe was a good call.
I've ended up watching the sunrise over breakfast. And that's always quite nice.

There's something wrong, I believe, when you're driven to a point where picking the wrong set of keys out of your handbag makes you want to cry. And not because you're in a rush or anything either.

I know I'm being a baby about things, and I sorta wish I hadn't brought it up last night. Isolated and self contained, none of what's going on for me is too overwhelming, really. And my sure, the things I have on, they don't take up entire days. But if you have three 2 hour slots filled in your day. That's six hours gone- and we haven't even begun on travel time yet.
And sure I can pack and move in two hour slots, but while I'm doing that, I'm also planning how to transit into my next two hour slot with something else scheduled.

I'm tired.
And so, I said so.
And no, none of what's going on is faaantastically important or SO big that I can't deal with it. But all the same, I'm tired.
I'm tired because, when I sit down, biting my lip, figuring out what to pack next and how- I feel bad.
When I stop for food, I feel bad.
When I stop packing to go out for rehearsals or just, work, I feel bad.
When I'm packing, less so, but I think of what else I ought to be doing too- like filling out applications, doing laundry. Basically, I take breaks by doing other things on my to do list.

So yes, I know what needs to be done.
And yes, I'm taking active steps and doing things.
And yes, maybe it's not quite as bad as I make it out to be.
And yes, I'm being a baby about all of this.

It's just that, well, I suppose it'd be nice to wake up and go out and not want desperately to be hit by a car so that I can be bedridden and forced to stop. AND THEN feel bad for even thinking that because all I'm thinking is, "but then who's going to pack and do all those things I'm supposed to be doing?"

Like I said, I'm not troubled and it's not a big deal. But all I want to do is curl up under my bed for a bit and cry.

Verity, look what you've done now!

Find me

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