I know I said I’d update by Wednesday, but you’ll notice I didn’t technically specify which Wednesday it would be. So this update could be early! Really, I’m not a huge slacker.
… Except I am, of course. I don’t know what is up with me lately, but I just don’t want to do anything. I want to sit around watching TV with occasional breaks to lie in the bath and read a book. I am still doing things, of course — working, cleaning the house, playing with Connor — but all the non-essentials have fallen by the wayside. This might be part of the “grieving process” (a phrase I hate with a fiery passion, or would if I had the energy for fiery passionate hatred), or it might just be a reaction to the turning season. Whatever it is, it’s kicking my ass, in a slow-boring-death-by-ennui sort of way.
I have also discovered that one of the drawbacks of my awesome job is that it’s always there. Every moment I’m home and not immediately occupied, I feel like I should be working. Part of that is the massive water bill we have to pay on Monday, but a much larger part of it is just that the job is always there and I have some weird Protestant mentality wherein a single moment not working sends me spiralling into panic and self-flagellation. I’m working on it, but in the meantime that water bill still has to be paid. This whole dynamic is so strange — I don’t want to work, like, at all, but then if I don’t work I hate myself and end up frantically trying to make up “missed” time, even if that time didn’t need to be spent working in the first place.
I don’t know. It’s all avoidance, I think. The truth is that I just don’t feel right for some reason. I am in the doldrums. Not the big, dramatic, oh-my-God-I-want-to-die doldrums, just the everything-sucks-and-I-just-want-to-be-still doldrums. It’s boring and kind of painful and it makes everything, including updating this here blaaaaawg, pretty difficult.
So. The service for my great-grandmother was lovely, and it was really nice to see my family and my great-grandmother’s friends — many of whom were incredibly kind to me throughout my childhood. We stopped at the park by my great-grandmother’s house afterward, the same park where she took me for swimming lessons and walks and bike rides and games and secret garden-hunting, and I had a long, hard cry in the car while Connor and Michael played. I wanted to drive by her house (which is now my great-aunt’s house), but I felt weird about it — I wanted to stop by the house and visit her gardens, her rooms, but it wasn’t really her house anymore and my aunt certainly wasn’t having a better day than I was.
Then we picked up our lives again, went to Target for Connor’s Halloween costume, and came home. Anti-climax, but what can you do? My drained, pessimistic self wants to get all woebegone about how NOTHING! There’s NOTHING you can do, everything is pointless, oh agony, oh the humanity, but I won’t let it. This will pass and life will start to interest me again and before you know it I’ll be updating three times a week just like I used to. Promise.