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1) I seem to have turned into a very lazy lj-er, & 2) how is time passing so very fast? I still remember rather vividly writing about being happy at having daylight again when I leave work, and now it's already almost dark when I bike home. Gah. Stop!

Spanish continues [Different VHS, different teacher who explains things much better and more clearly, although I had a bit of a shock in the first lesson when everyone was recounting their holidays in indefinido, which, OMG panic! we hadn't learned last semester, but that wasn't too difficult to catch up with, and I'm getting along fine otherwise, so I'm staying. Plus, it's on Monday, and there's at least a chance I'll still be slightly less dead then during the Christmas season than later in the week.], as does belly-dancing (still moving a bit too fast for my taste mostly because my brain needs more time to process and put togehter the parts of the choreographies we're doing, and on top of that almost everyone in the class has much more experience than I have, but perhaps I'm simply masochistic, or perhaps it's that however frustrated I get, I'm still pleasantly surprised that I'm able to do this at all (Me! Dance!), but I'm continuing for the moment.).

Two birthday cakes were made, and what is it with all the autumn birthdays in my family. *sigh*

I've been watching B5, only a few epiodes left of S3 now, but I'm not really feeling the love, somehow. Nostalgic fondness, yes, and there are moments when it grips me, but something's missing...

And when I have the time and energy I've been out photographing, once with H. (flickr guy), and last Saturday there was a meeting of the Vienna flickr group, which turned out to be really nice, especially considering that I almost hadn't gone, because OMG people I don't know! Scary! Stress! Do not want! Why is it so very hard for me to maintain enough of a mental balance to keep up at least a minimal social life (minimal on my standards, not the rest of the world's)?

Work is getting increasingly hectic and if I'm exhausted already, how will I cope with Christmas?

And speaking of which, I had one of my recurrent I-can't-bear-this-job-for-another-minute crisis a couple of weeks ago, but, as always, it kind of... dissolved again without leading to any clear decision.

What I would like is to get away from retail, for once because of the selling aspect (and while selling books is preferable to selling coffee mugs with Sisi portraits to Italian tourists, it's not all that different, either; this whole consumerism aspect makes me uncomfortable), for another because having to deal with (and be friendly!) so many people on a daily basis makes me cranky and misanthropic for the remaining hours of the day & remaining days of the week. I don't really have the mental capability to do this, and doubt I ever will.

The eternal problem, however, is - what else? I don't see how I could turn my moderate/mediocre artistic interests/talents into something that'd earn me a living, and I can't really imagine sitting in an office or before a computer for eight hours and having to deal with all kinds of unsavory office politics on top of that. I'd rather plant flowers, or something along this line. The degree in archaeology in less than useless; I've been out of academia too long to get back into it, not that there was much of a realistic chance of ever getting an actual paid job before, which was part of the reason why I ditched the diss in the end.

Money isn't so much the issue, but doing something that I can derive enough satisfaction from to keep me going and my life at least moderately meaningful. Maybe it'd be different if I had a family, but since I don't and never really expected to have one, I'm sort of used to define myself by what I do, and standing in the same shop for six years plus doesn't do much for my self-confidence and self-image when I allow myself to think about it.

The paradox is that the less depressed I am, the more I dare expect something from life, the more this drives me crazy, makes me feel like an utter failure and in turn depresses me again. Talk about vicious circle.

So following all this I spiralled in a bit of a depressed phase, until one night I was lying in my bed, crying, because it'd suddenly struck me that if my parents had been less, well, in the case of my father we can safely say neurotic, if my family situation had been less messed up, if I had been less alone as a child (and I've read since that apparently one's personality is for the greatest part determined by one's genes as well as during the time of pregnancy and the first three years of one's life, after which we can only change within certain rather narrow parameters)... if I'd been less shy, less introverted, less messed-up, I maybe could have had what passes for a 'normal' life, I could have had a family, I might not be lying there alone.

I might have been unhappy in entirely different ways, of course.

Not to mention that this if, if, if train of thoughts is entirely futile in any case.

My sister said being angry is good, but I think it's only useful when you're able to channel the anger into something productive, into change; if you already know that in all likelihood you're too weak and too cowardly to do that, it only makes one more miserable.

It's not as easy as, all right, I'll just start dating. Half - most - of the time the thought of having someone around, someone who'd expect things from me, either terrifies me or is so unreal that it seems impossible that it should have anything to do with me.

And what's the point of making myself want things if I don't have the strength to reach for them?

I'm driving myself in a corner, mentally. Because if I can't live with it, and if I can't change it, what is there left to do? Except the obvious...

Feeling better now, although I was already dithering on the brink of Sunday-afternoon-depression again today. (Of course it doesn't help that tomorrow morning I'm having the orthodontist appointment from hell, first having my teeth cleaned and then getting the braces adjusted, which by itself is enough to leave me in a state of nervous breakdown most of the time...)


solitary summer

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