If I described my state of mind for the past few weeks it would be uninspired. I’ve been trapped in a stale state of mediocre existence and faking passion because it’s the only way I know how to get through the boring bits of the day. But lately those bits have not been bits. They’ve been unbearable chunks of unmotivated periods through out the day during which I get things done because they need to be done.
Ever since I burned out at the end of my last field mission I’ve been fighting a loosing battle with myself. Every morning I wake up dreading the rest of the day. I get up thinking that coffee will do the trick or if I can just get myself out the door I will hop, skip and run to the office and be the best version of myself I can be. But no. I find myself dreading what comes after still.
My husband who can predict my bouts of restlessness with uncanny precision says I still haven’t learned to live in the moment. He is annoyingly right. Like a character from that Woody Allen movie where no one has their shit together, I don’t know what I want, I only know what I don’t want. So I keep searching.