Panic makes me loopy
I’m either in the middle of a 2 year panic attack, or the cold medicine has taken over my functions because I’m thinking crazy. Loopy crazy. J Lo and Ben crazy.
Its been well documented that I’m a tad bit unhappy with my current employment situation. Mainly the fact that I can’t seem to close any new business to save my life. I try. I work really hard for weeks at a time until I burn myself out and get all un-motivated again. Then I languish for a week or two until I pull myself back up and try, oh how I try again. Well, I’m nearing the end of the most recent two week languishment and I’m struggling for motivation to kick into gear. I tell myself that the harder I work, the more shiny pretty things I can buy myself. The more fashion designer suits and clothes I can fill my closet with, the more traveling I can do, the faster my beloved Rikka will get paid off. But none of this has worked for me. It sucks working in a money driven career when you’re not driven by money.
That being said, I’ve been considering a move again. To a smaller city. A quieter place with a slower pace of life. A place where I could possibly purchase a home and set down some roots.
My weekend in St. Louis allowed me to slow down a moment long enough to consider a few things. Do I really need to live in a huge city? Do I need to have it all at my fingertips, when chances are I’ll never even check all of it out? Wouldn’t it be better to be the big fish in a small pond than a small fish in a big pond? Do I even want to be a fish?
These were just a sampling of the questions racing through my flu-ridden mind the past few days as I languished (oh how I love that word) about the apartment trying to clean my head of both mucus and depression.
I think the answer is yes. I’m not sure which question “yes” answers, but the answer is most definitely “yes”.