2001-08-02 - 7:01 p.m.
I never seem to get anywhere...

I've had the wanderlust again, these last few weeks. It's made it hard for me to write. I feel stifled, shut in, all my energy focussed on NOT running in five different directions at once. Hard to communicate, when it feels like opening up might shatter my fragile hold.

It twitches up and down my spine, like an itch I cannot reach, frazzling all my nerves. I've been guzzling caffeine at work -- two cups of coffee before 9am, a can of Mountain Dew, a 32-ounce Dr Pepper at lunch, and at least six cups of hot tea scattered through the rest of the day. Caffeine makes things worse on a normal day, but on days like this, it has a calming effect.

Of course, by the time I get home at 6pm, I feel like I've been running all day, instead of driving a desk. Concentration, I guess. It's harder than normal, too bad it doesn't burn more calories. And the caffeinated sludge in my veins, I suppose, is more harm than help once the effects wear off.

It's been one year today, since I started this job. Seven months since I moved in with my brother. Sixteen months since I shifted from academia to the real world. All of these counters, all of them, have moved past my tolerance level. *shudder* Why can't I just be content?

Agh. I was happier earlier this year. I suppose I'll be happy again next month. But just now, it doesn't feel like it's ever going to be any other way.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've heard it all before. Everyone feels this way sometimes, only the lucky few really enjoy their jobs, noone is ever really content with what they have. Everyone's the same, blah, blah, blah.

It doesn't make any difference in the way I feel. Fuck sameness. That's the problem in the first place, I think.