I should’ve met you on my feet and started the new year with some forward motion, any motion, however small. I should’ve cleaned up my room, my computer, and gone through the items remaining on my before-I-go-back-to-SG list. I should’ve hunkered down, shut myself in my room, and sat down to have a nice long thorough think.
Well. Instead, I gave in to a thoroughly lazy, improvement-free Sunday filled with food, naps, Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon, Gilmore Girls, and more food. The night is drawing to a close and it’s only now that my guilty conscience rears its head, waggles a finger, tut-tuts.
So, here we are, here I am. Which is where, exactly? Well. It’s the first day of the year and I’ve shut myself in my room and just lazed about, leading to this horrible guilty first night of the year. Maybe it’s delayed onset holiday depression, but I’m feeling rather lonely and especially unsure of myself and what I’m doing with my life.
For instance, I’ve been back home for a month, yet I haven’t really done much with my time. Worked (admittedly, this did take up most of my time and energy), went out a couple of times with the few friends I have remaining, treated my nieces to fast food and ice cream and the like a few times, and of course performed the requisite Christmas season pigging out. I feel like I haven’t made the most of my time here.
In particular, I believe what’s really bugging me is that, despite all historical evidence, I had been hoping that I would somehow automagically emerge wiser, more in charge, surer of myself, and happier at the other end of this little trip. Talk about high, unrealistic expectations, right? Yet even though I do realize that, it still is a major bummer that, instead, I’m still here where I’ve always been and where, it seems, I’m fated to stay.
Maybe I’m looking at things all wrong and all I really need to do is to make peace with my stupid, unempathetic, waffly, oblivious, useless, depressive, physically, morally, and mentally flabby self. (Or maybe I’m just once again resorting to the tired self-deprecation trick in lieu of coming to actual useful conclusions.)
Well, I suppose I’ll allow myself to stay in this mood for a while longer. Calmer reflection has convinced me (somewhat, or maybe I’m just getting sleepy and tiring of this fruitless line of thought) that this is a normal feeling that should pass soon enough. Feeling unsure and sad about one’s life doesn’t indicate that everything’s wrong and is headed for ruin, and in fact, it doesn’t necessarily indicate that anything at all is wrong.
I’m not saying that I don’t think there’s room for improvement in my life, because there is perhaps a couple of warehouses’ worth of room, but that, I guess, it’s counterproductive and stupid to let vague little doubts grow into vague large doubts.
I can and will do better this year. A little too undefined for a mantra, perhaps, but it’s at least an optimistic start. Here’s to us, 2012. Hajimemashite, douzo yoroshiku onegaishimasu.
Well. Instead, I gave in to a thoroughly lazy, improvement-free Sunday filled with food, naps, Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon, Gilmore Girls, and more food. The night is drawing to a close and it’s only now that my guilty conscience rears its head, waggles a finger, tut-tuts.
So, here we are, here I am. Which is where, exactly? Well. It’s the first day of the year and I’ve shut myself in my room and just lazed about, leading to this horrible guilty first night of the year. Maybe it’s delayed onset holiday depression, but I’m feeling rather lonely and especially unsure of myself and what I’m doing with my life.
For instance, I’ve been back home for a month, yet I haven’t really done much with my time. Worked (admittedly, this did take up most of my time and energy), went out a couple of times with the few friends I have remaining, treated my nieces to fast food and ice cream and the like a few times, and of course performed the requisite Christmas season pigging out. I feel like I haven’t made the most of my time here.
In particular, I believe what’s really bugging me is that, despite all historical evidence, I had been hoping that I would somehow automagically emerge wiser, more in charge, surer of myself, and happier at the other end of this little trip. Talk about high, unrealistic expectations, right? Yet even though I do realize that, it still is a major bummer that, instead, I’m still here where I’ve always been and where, it seems, I’m fated to stay.
Maybe I’m looking at things all wrong and all I really need to do is to make peace with my stupid, unempathetic, waffly, oblivious, useless, depressive, physically, morally, and mentally flabby self. (Or maybe I’m just once again resorting to the tired self-deprecation trick in lieu of coming to actual useful conclusions.)
Well, I suppose I’ll allow myself to stay in this mood for a while longer. Calmer reflection has convinced me (somewhat, or maybe I’m just getting sleepy and tiring of this fruitless line of thought) that this is a normal feeling that should pass soon enough. Feeling unsure and sad about one’s life doesn’t indicate that everything’s wrong and is headed for ruin, and in fact, it doesn’t necessarily indicate that anything at all is wrong.
I’m not saying that I don’t think there’s room for improvement in my life, because there is perhaps a couple of warehouses’ worth of room, but that, I guess, it’s counterproductive and stupid to let vague little doubts grow into vague large doubts.
I can and will do better this year. A little too undefined for a mantra, perhaps, but it’s at least an optimistic start. Here’s to us, 2012. Hajimemashite, douzo yoroshiku onegaishimasu.
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