Well hello there! It’s been quite a while. Whole life forms have probably evolved and died out in the time I’ve been away.
But anyway, I’m back now. A lot has changed, a lot has stayed the same. I’m reaching another turning point in my life. All good stuff.
The thing is, I don’t want to talk about that. I don’t even know what I want to talk about. I just want to talk.
It’s been so long since I’ve just sat down and written. No research required, no googling. Even when I write in my diary I have to look in my planner to see what I did all day. To be honest, it’s been an incredibly long time since I really did anything creative. I’ve let to-do lists run my life, goal setting and achieving mark a lot of my self-worth. I stopped playing the trumpet to have more time to work and tutor and go ringing. I don’t write for pleasure anymore. I run instead of dancing.
I couldn’t work out what was wrong, but something wasn’t right. And today I found the word to describe how I’ve been feeling.
If you asked me to describe my average day to you, it would go something like this. I get up, and on autopilot I do my makeup, my hair, get dressed. I walk to university and go to a lecture or two, maybe have a quick coffee with some friends, then go to the lab and centrifuge the day away. I walk home, cook dinner. And then I do the thing I promised myself I wouldn’t. Almost every. single. day. I stick Desperate Housewives on, cuddle up to Joe, and let the evening slip by.
Even over Christmas, I judged my parents for doing it, not realising that I was doing exactly the same thing.
Now I’ve identified the problem, what am I going to do to fix it? Luckily on my walk home this evening I remembered you, my old faithful blog, and got childishly excited to bash something out. Maybe take some artsy photos, learn to edit them.
The problem is, I feel strangely guilty. I should be working, or spending this time with Joe, or working towards one of my (many) goals.
In trying to figure out how on earth I was going to get my zest back, I even considered making myself write on here every week. Ah, good. Some more regimented activity. So, no, instead I will simply add it to my growing goals list to try to remember every now and again that I am a person, and like most other people I need a creative outlet.
It’s exciting! Not every day has to be the same. I can write, or paint, or get out my (really really awful) keyboard. I can take time for these things, give myself the time I need, and probably still have 45 minutes for a quick Desperate Housewives episode at the end of the day.
Maybe this desire to slump at the end of the day is just me growing up. Maybe my lab work is exhausting (there’s no maybe about it!). But maybe I can still turn this thing around.
And about that life turning point, I’ll explain that another day…