Bill Withers ain't got nothin' on me...

I had an unusual burst of enthusiasm at the beginning of the work week. It was acute and reviving and I was SO productive. Monday is usually never my day but I was white-hot. I finished up my program newsletter and started mailing them off, I began collecting information for a project I’m working on (and dreading doing so). I hardly goofed off and by the end of the day I felt real pride in my work. I achieved so much. Ok. That was Monday.

Tuesday. I felt kind of sluggish, but still lightly beaming at this neat path of productivity I had managed to create. I goofed off some. Just a little. See, I found this Yahoo! Feature that I’m addicted to. It’s called Yahoo! Answers and it is fun for the bored-stiff aficionados of time wasting. Anything you’ve ever wanted to ask, you can do it here. And people answer your question for points. I mostly answer questions on there. People also have to choose the best answer. I’ll admit, having your answer picked as the best is such a rush!

Wednesday. By now my shoulders are hunched and I’m greedily answering questions online. I’m puttering around and doing things but with little of the pride and exuberance I had on Monday. I’m also incredibly discouraged and restless and I have no idea why. A friend suggested that it is ennui and I tend to agree. Pure, maddening B O R E D O M. I haven’t spoken to my family in a week and frankly, I could finish out this week without talking to them as well. Don’t look at me like that. I just get so tired of being everyone’s freaking *cheerleader*. That is to say, I wouldn’t mind being the cheerleader if people would effing listen to me! My 16 year old sister is having problems with school and her boyfriend. I’m in the stance that the two are cause and effect. BeCAUSE she has a boyfriend, the EFFECT is flailing grades. And when I try and connect those crazy dots of the universe for her and point this out, she looks at me like I just told her she can bend in half. F*ck it. Do what you want. Nobody put a crustacean in my bed this morning, so don’t call me ‘Crabby’.

Today. My husband looked at me with a worried face this morning. I couldn’t help but laugh. We know each other too well, by this point. He can tell, even if I don’t think I’m showing, that I’m pissed off or pensive or anxious or whatever. I told him it was nothing. Sidenote: WHY DO WOMEN DO THAT?? I do it myself, but it’s like, I can be crying, sobbing uncontrollably and he’ll burst into the bedroom and ask me what’s wrong. First words out of my mouth (like a reflex) “It’s nothing.” LOL. Anyway, I gave it some thought and realized that a small part of it is my frustration at being away from home. I wasn’t expecting this. I expected the homesickness, the feelings of guilt (like I abandoned my whole life there) and the intense denial that I’ll ever settle into Ohio. But frustration is like having a splinter in your hand with nothing to use to get it out. Some frustration has an outlet. What outlet could I possibly have? Maybe to come back for a visit… But I couldn’t buy a bag of corn chips without my pockets feeling the pinch, right now.