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2005-06-27 - 1:38 p.m.

I am feeling at home (well not at the moment since I am currently at work on lunch) but in my soul because I am moved in. I don�t simply mean that my stuff is all jammed into the new apartment awaiting organization I mean I am MOVED IN with pictures up on the wall and everything. My Darlings inadvertent unemployment turned out to be timely for our move. I don�t think we would be nearly as IN as we are if he hadn�t had the days to work on the place. Of course enough is enough and I am hoping that he will get a call soon from the company where he interviewed with a decent job offer. I know he wants to get back to work. I want him back to work as well. Since he will not have a vacation right away and I have almost two weeks I have decided that I am going to take a week off and go nowhere and do nothing. Well, I�m not going to do nothing; I expect I will find plenty to do but I will not have to meet any external timelines. Perhaps I will return to my novel which has been languishing in my computer since December, maybe I will take a walk and do a little sketching,, I could borrow my Beau�s digital camera and play around with light and dark (wink-Zuzu) or maybe I will just bask in the sunshine and remember that I am human and there is more to life than work and the lack there of. I have decided and now I�m simply waiting for an empty house. I am certain I will enjoy having my Darling come home and tell me of his adventures in the new and improved job. I will pretend I am retired and I will rise early for my constitutional before indulging in a cup of coffee and roam through the newspaper.

My Darling insists I don�t know how to relax. He watches me fuss around on the weekends, rising far too early and staying up too late busying myself in between with this chore or that. It�s not that I believe that I am the only one who can do these tasks, or if I don�t do them they won�t get done, but I derive so much pleasure in a clean kitchen or house that I just keep working till it is done. There is something to be said for the mindlessness of menial tasks. Truly if it weren�t for the poor pay I would be quite happy in a menial job. Busy, busy, busy until shebang, the end of the day arrives and you have no sense of time passing. If I must work in the workaday world that is how I prefer it. The things I dreamed of doing in my life are simply not attainable.

I�ll tell you a secret. In some ways I miss the excitement of my pre-medicated life. I don�t miss the depression, of course, or the self medication, but I miss the belief that I was special, that I had something unique and exceptional to offer. It is a little unsettling to have to abandon all my perceptions of self in favor of the more realistic, non-delusional truth that I am ordinary. I have no particular gifts of use to me (by that I mean in a career sense since my writing gives me great pleasure but is not marketable). I am so far behind other people my age in the learning curve that I can�t realistically expect to ever catch up and I am likely to end my career firmly planted on the first rung of the ladder. It is my own fault as I have jumped from ladder to ladder never rising about the first rung in any career I have tried. The things I believe I do best are useless in my world. I don�t sing anymore. It hurts. It used to make me happy but now it just makes me sad. I have been sad a lot lately. The new house and all is great but I feel like I have a huge hole in my life. It�s not missing my cats; I like the freedom from that responsibility and trouble, I don�t know what it is. I have been trying for days to identify the source of my sadness to no avail. Maybe you know, maybe you can tell me what it is I am feeling because I am lost. How can I be lost in my own home?

I wish you Peace

~alison~


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Darkness - 2013-04-18

Too much - 2013-04-09

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