Post Job, Day 13: The excuses

Yesterday, I decided to take the day off. I remember doing very little, if anything, to further my situation at school. That's...pretty much it.

There's been a funk seeping like the water from the washing machine upstairs into my brain and soul, brown from collecting dust and rust flakes. It's lethargy, I think. That belief that I shouldn't do much of anything, ever save sitting around and feeling sorry for myself. That, unfortunately, hasn't helped anything, however, yet it persists.

Today, was a different story, I suppose. I woke up, late, and began my day slowly. It's obvious my pace and mindset stems from the malaises that is life right now. I'm unhappy with being dropped, can't accept it, and am being a bit of a baby about it. Scratch that, a huge baby about it. This is something I should have pushed through quite some time ago. Should have been able to conquer the fear over the unknown next step and accepted it instead of this childish sitting around in my underwear, watching movies or television shows as work piles up both at my former place of business and the projects I claim to be working on. The truth is, I'm not. And that, what?, makes me less then I know I can be. It leaves me sitting in my head, shaking in disgust at what I see that I'm doing. You know, nothing.

Not only is this a problem with my professional life but with personal life as well. I'm trying to make progress, align myself correctly with the stages I should be involved in for my age, and be on the look out for that "someone". Problem is, I'm not. I'm just here, in front of my desk like a sad sack of crap. And now I'm off the rails...

What everything here boils down to, what is at it's heart is fear. Terror, really. Am I ready to return to school after everything that happened last time? Am I ready to get married when I don't know that I've made the kind of progress I feel I should have made? Am I ready to make that step into my career instead of continuing this line of poor-paying part-time positions that don't initiate my brain at all?

The answer to all these is 'yes'. A resounding 'yes'. But what of the terror? What of the grip it has over me. What happens when I'm in Decatur and can't see family and friends and remember that I am capable and can push through this? It owns me. But it shouldn't. And, at this point, I need to ignore the juvenile excuses that used to "work" and be an adult. Accept it. Be it.

I'll get there.