I’m so tired that it feels like I have fish eye vision when i’m walking around. Everything is shifting and dancing around me. Probably not a good thing.
I’m very frustrated with a couple of people. Who are frustrated with me, or so they’d have me believe. It’s very frustrating. Silent treatments are for two year olds.
I’m undeniably exhausted of this job. It’s exhausting. Unfulfilling. Meaningless. There is no real fruit here. No impact. No heart. I want to be somewhere where my job matters.
I feel like I’ve kinda been squished out of my fellowship. Really, like I could possibly duck out for a couple months and no one would suspect a thing out of the ordinary.
I’ve been homeless for a month now. (In the literal sense that I’ve been without a home, not that I’ve been living on the streets.) The apartments are working with us. We fell through the cracks.
I’m hindered expressively. I don’t have time or resources to paint or draw or ride a bike, play an instrument. If I do have time, I’m exhausted still with no resources.
I say yes too much. I’m exhausted. Most times I feel forced into doing favors for people. If I only did things that I’d volunteered for, I’d be rested, happy, without fish eyes.
That’s that for now I suppose. It turned moreso into a rant than a blog. Wish I could sleep now. Nope, eight more hours of work today. I wonder what this would be like if I didn’t feel so suppressed.
Now that’s a thought.
