As mothers day

As mothers day approaches, I feel I’m a highly skilled loser. I intended to write “I feel like I’m a highly skilled loser” but instead I accidentally labeled myself.

I hated listening to mothers day radio commercials today.

None of my time is mine. I haven’t earned it. Night time is the only peace.

And I’m not relaxed.

I’m writing this using my phone. I would have thought that pretty cool when I was thirteen.

I’m writing this in bed. I would have thought that pretty cool when I was sixteen.

Why don’t I think this cool at 44?

Oh, big surprise, Joe is troubled.

🙂

[I actually wrote this last night using my phone.  It did not publish: a network error, it said.  This morning I thought, Oh, the Universe gave me a chance to un-have-said-it.  I feel a little better this morning.]

I feel like I should be working all the time.  And any free time I feel like I should be spending it with these people or that person.  So, any time I’m not doing what I should be doing by whatever definition is not my time, so I cannot enjoy it.  And then, I just feel worse.  And, so, feeling worse, I do less of what I think I should be doing and just feel worse.

My latest thing is noticing that if I play hookie from work, that I have nothing more fun to do.  I just want to be alone.  I just spent about an hour listening to the buzzing in my ears.

The buzzing isn’t always the same.

Why don’t I write a book?  Because I don’t want to abandon that project.

But I can’t be sure of any of my reasons for doing or not doing anything.

The discussion with my Grandmother last week really bothered me.  It bothers me that it bothered me. She didn’t really say anything wrong.  She’s obviously worried about me.