Apparently, I've been in a bad mood the last few weeks. (I apologize if I've been grouchy, grumpy, mean or pointedly sarcastic to you.) I hadn't realized it. DB informed me of such last weekend. Kept prodding me to talk and asked me what was wrong a million times. I don't know. I thought I was fine. Everything was fine. FINE! Stop asking! Hmm... maybe not.
Unfortunately, once he pointed it out and I thought about it, the more I realized he was right. I am in a funk. Now that I'm conscious of it, I'm dwelling on the funk. Wallowing in the funk. It's just making it worse. I get teary if I just *THINK* of the movie Office Space, which is supposed to be funny, but I'd always found to be a tragic parody of my life. My mother's plan to run away to Mexico starts to look even better as I sink deeper into the Swamps of Sadness.
Last night, I spent about four hours in the car driving to his parent's place and we talked. I think there is no real root to my problem. Every once in a while, I just get like this. I'm not clinically depressed. There isn't anything specific bothering me, aside from his inability to get his dishes into the dishwasher. I have a lot going on, which might stress me out from time to time, but overall, my life is pretty darn good. Not perfect, but I can't complain too much. (All this, of course, pending on the country's financial crisis and my rapidly dwindling 401k account. That combined with the election, the exceedingly hairy sitch with Russia... I'm considering moving to a commune.)
And yet, I feel off. Like my existance doesn't have a point. A purpose. I'm very goal oriented. From childhood, I was always fighting to the next achievement. After grad school, I think I started chasing publication so I would have a new goal to work toward. That's going fine, but in the rest of my life it seems lately like I'm just going through the motions day by day. What am I offering the world? What is the point of me being on this planet? I get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, watch some tv, go to bed. Next day, do it again. Wishing away the week to get to the weekend. Seems pointless. Not in a "what's-the-point-of-going-on-living?" sort of way, but just... is there something I'm supposed to be doing with my life that I don't know about? I'm watching years slip by with no discernable improvements or changes.
DB made a point of reminding me that the only people who sit around pondering the meaning of life are those who aren't struggling just to survive. Makes me feel guilty for moping. I guess I tend to worry and wallow about things other people don't think about or don't have the time or energy to think about.
A rambling, wandering blog, I apologize. So, I guess now I'm trying to shake off the funk before I drown like Atreyou's horse. (A side note to the designers of the universe - a book contract would be a really great way to do it.) Do you ever just get in a funk for no real reason? What do you do to shake it off? Am I the only one sitting around pondering what I'm supposed to be doing with my life?
P.S. In other, less depressing news, PC's interview is up over at the iheartpresents blog. Pop over and say hi!
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