Wednesday, October 5, 2016

The Rut

I'm in one.  A rut, that is. Let's call it a not exactly unpredictable post-PCS rut.  I'm not following any of my own advice about adjusting to a new place after moving, and I'm spending waaay too much time hiding out in my house.  Which as many of you know...I love to do.  

I can putter around the house doing this, that and the other all day long.  For days in a row.  Without the least bit of desire to go out in the world. The house-gnome tendencies are off the charts lately. 

And this is a problem.  Why?  Well, because I'm not engaging.  I'm the opposite.  Almost completely DISengaged from this whole process of rebuilding my life, finding a job, being social, etc.

I can't seem to get my momentum going.  And truthfully?  I'm just...tired.  I'm tired of all the things I have to do to get my shit in order for yet another job hunt.

The resume updating, the hunting down of reference letters, the endless searching for interesting and relevant positions, applying for said positions, fixating on whether I'll be called for an interview, fretting about said interview, agonizing over whether I'll be hired, and on, and on, and on.  I'm just weary of the whole process.  I've done it So. Many. Times.

I've made very little effort toward finding a volunteer gig while I just barely job hunt, I'm not working out, it just goes on and on.

On top of the fatigue, the reality of knowing we'll only be here for 9 more months at this point makes it even more challenging for me to motivate the hell on up.

Man, do I sound like a whiny brat.  It's not my intention.

But occasionally, this platform of blogging ends up being a sounding board for me.  I guess this is one of those times.

Please standby for crafting, recipes and travel posts at a later date.  Insert high pitched emergency broadcast screech here.

I'm trying not to be too hard on myself.  (Not one of my strong points)  It's only been about 6 weeks since we've rid ourselves of boxes and unpacking.  So, I'm trying to cut myself a break.

I realize the only person capable of changing this lovely attitude of meh I've decided to take on is the one tapping away at the keyboard at this very moment.  You know, the lady who's been wearing the same t-shirt for almost 48 hours.  And can't seem to peel herself out of her house.  It's me.  The answer is me.

Alright.  Time to wrap up the sunshine and lollipops I've got going on here.  I need another injection of Chucky Swindoll.  Here goes:

Amen, Chuck.  I've got some work to do.

Ta ta for now.

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