Faith, Or The Opposite Of Pride

=================================================

Location: Work.
Listening: "Strangelove" by Depeche Mode.

So I went home at lunch and, while Peter recounted pieces of a conversation with a friend of his (acquaintance of mine) and I arched the internal eyebrow, I realized what has likely been wrong with me for however long it's been.

I don't recognize myself any more.

More specifically, I recognize who I very well might still be, but, for some reason, have not been for quite a while now. Somewhere along the line, I got docile and insecure and, well, boring. At least to me, anyway. I don't dance anymore, I don't flirt, I haven't worn PVC in over a year...Instead, I fret over the house, do laundry, yearn for a larger oven and more counter-space. I'm not sure when I became someone's mother, but I did a damn good job of it. I might be depressed because I'm 25 and the main things that I think about are the state of my apartment, graduate school, and my budget. Granted, these are things that do require serious consideration, but certainly not to the extent that I've been considering them. Christ. My job used to be so secondary to the rest of my life that I hardly even thought about it when the day was over--and, oftentimes, when the day wasn't over. I used to spend so much time up in LA that no one ever bothered to call me at my home number. I used to be involved in something creative that, although it was LARP, at least kept me going consistently on that front. I used to be someone that one could conceivably be intimidated by (not necessarily something I strive for, but it falls in line with the aforementioned conversation) rather than the random little dormouse I've become.

Right. Well then, that's going to stop. I imagine it'll take a while to get back to where I started, considering that it took a while to get here from there, but it really should be done before I break myself and won't be able to get back at all.

This does not, however, mean that I'm going back to LARP. I can think of very few things that could move me to do that. This does not mean that I'm abandoning graduate school, my languages, or cooking. This does mean that I'm going to quit behaving like a 40 year old housewife because, well, I'm not one.




	Faith, Or The Opposite Of Pride + the mizu chronicles + Home Get Email Updates + the crossword with a pen + god, who painted that + let the man go through + in this white wave + and his hair was perfect + life in a northern town + dona nobis pacem + hand me my leather + i believe in peace, bitch + any kind of touch Tori Amos Over The Rhine Cowboy Junkies Strangers In Paradise Email Me Admin Password Remember Me 15579 Curiosities served Share on Facebook				2002-01-07 2:04 PM Because You Have To Make This Life Liveable. Previous Entry :: Next Entry Mood: Restless ================================================= Location: Work. Listening: "Strangelove" by Depeche Mode. So I went home at lunch and, while Peter recounted pieces of a conversation with a friend of his (acquaintance of mine) and I arched the internal eyebrow, I realized what has likely been wrong with me for however long it's been. I don't recognize myself any more. More specifically, I recognize who I very well might still be, but, for some reason, have not been for quite a while now. Somewhere along the line, I got docile and insecure and, well, boring. At least to me, anyway. I don't dance anymore, I don't flirt, I haven't worn PVC in over a year...Instead, I fret over the house, do laundry, yearn for a larger oven and more counter-space. I'm not sure when I became someone's mother, but I did a damn good job of it. I might be depressed because I'm 25 and the main things that I think about are the state of my apartment, graduate school, and my budget. Granted, these are things that do require serious consideration, but certainly not to the extent that I've been considering them. Christ. My job used to be so secondary to the rest of my life that I hardly even thought about it when the day was over--and, oftentimes, when the day wasn't over. I used to spend so much time up in LA that no one ever bothered to call me at my home number. I used to be involved in something creative that, although it was LARP, at least kept me going consistently on that front. I used to be someone that one could conceivably be intimidated by (not necessarily something I strive for, but it falls in line with the aforementioned conversation) rather than the random little dormouse I've become. Right. Well then, that's going to stop. I imagine it'll take a while to get back to where I started, considering that it took a while to get here from there, but it really should be done before I break myself and won't be able to get back at all. This does not, however, mean that I'm going back to LARP. I can think of very few things that could move me to do that. This does not mean that I'm abandoning graduate school, my languages, or cooking. This does mean that I'm going to quit behaving like a 40 year old housewife because, well, I'm not one. Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top