Sleep can be a four letter word
Shit, shit, shit.
I’m such an idiot. I’ve been such a fool and now it’s time to pay the piper. Almost literally in this case.
What is the one thing I needed to do to ensure that this whole ‘Quitting shit job to put energies into training and finding another way to pay the bills’ thing worked?
Easy answer – finding another way to pay the bills.
Somethings been very, very wrong with me these last couple of weeks and I don’t know what to do about. I knew how long my money needed to last, I knew I had to get my arse into an agency to get another job. What have I done instead?
Slept. For hours, days sometimes. There have been a couple of 24 hour periods in this last week when I quite literally haven’t moved out of my bed for anything other than feed the cat and go to the loo.
What is fucking wrong with me? I’ll wake up, look at the clock, think to myself ‘I need to do x, y, z today. I’ll just have five more minutes’, next thing it’s chuffing 5p.m., the days gone and I’m not even bothered! I’ll just roll over put the laptop on and play games until the next morning, at which point I think ‘I should have an hour or two’. Zap, there goes another day. Ok, I think, what I’ll do is stay up the full 24 hours, go to bed at a reasonable time and be up fresh and ready to go the next day. You know what happened? I stayed up, no problem, stayed in bed (awake) ALL DAY, fell asleep at 5pm woke up just before midnight, abracadabra back to fucking square one.
So much for that idea.
It’s difficult to describe my thinking over this past week or so, it’s been perfectly clear but also completely lacking in emotion it seems. I’ve been completely capable of thinking ‘If I don’t get my arse out of bed and DO something I’m going to lose everything, my home, my stuff, EVERYTHING’ and not attaching any emotion to it at all. No panic, no imminent sense of terror, not even some perfectly understandable depression that I’ve let myself get to this.
I’m hoping the fact that I’ve been able to get my arse to the agency today is a good sign, the fact that I’m writing this is a sign, however small, that this mood is breaking.
I don’t know, it’s just hope at the moment. I know I’ve got the real shit to come now. Bills to pay and all that.
Shit, shit, shit. What is wrong with me?
I’m such an idiot. I’ve been such a fool and now it’s time to pay the piper. Almost literally in this case.
What is the one thing I needed to do to ensure that this whole ‘Quitting shit job to put energies into training and finding another way to pay the bills’ thing worked?
Easy answer – finding another way to pay the bills.
Somethings been very, very wrong with me these last couple of weeks and I don’t know what to do about. I knew how long my money needed to last, I knew I had to get my arse into an agency to get another job. What have I done instead?
Slept. For hours, days sometimes. There have been a couple of 24 hour periods in this last week when I quite literally haven’t moved out of my bed for anything other than feed the cat and go to the loo.
What is fucking wrong with me? I’ll wake up, look at the clock, think to myself ‘I need to do x, y, z today. I’ll just have five more minutes’, next thing it’s chuffing 5p.m., the days gone and I’m not even bothered! I’ll just roll over put the laptop on and play games until the next morning, at which point I think ‘I should have an hour or two’. Zap, there goes another day. Ok, I think, what I’ll do is stay up the full 24 hours, go to bed at a reasonable time and be up fresh and ready to go the next day. You know what happened? I stayed up, no problem, stayed in bed (awake) ALL DAY, fell asleep at 5pm woke up just before midnight, abracadabra back to fucking square one.
So much for that idea.
It’s difficult to describe my thinking over this past week or so, it’s been perfectly clear but also completely lacking in emotion it seems. I’ve been completely capable of thinking ‘If I don’t get my arse out of bed and DO something I’m going to lose everything, my home, my stuff, EVERYTHING’ and not attaching any emotion to it at all. No panic, no imminent sense of terror, not even some perfectly understandable depression that I’ve let myself get to this.
I’m hoping the fact that I’ve been able to get my arse to the agency today is a good sign, the fact that I’m writing this is a sign, however small, that this mood is breaking.
I don’t know, it’s just hope at the moment. I know I’ve got the real shit to come now. Bills to pay and all that.
Shit, shit, shit. What is wrong with me?
posted by Journeyman at 1:30 pm
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