I’ve fallen into another psychological rut. I don’t want to go to work tomorrow. I don’t want to call in sick. I just want to not go. I had made up my mind to go in on Saturday and get ahead on a few things so I wouldn’t feel behind on Monday. But before I made it there, I got a call from one of the owners asking me about something and basically telling me that I had made a mistake and he was irritated about it. I’m not one of those people who can’t admit when they fucked up. Trust me, I do it all the time. But I’m pretty sure it was his misinformation that led to my fucking up in the first place and it was like he couldn’t even hear what he was saying to me because he was so worried about him being right and me being wrong. And even if I was wrong, I go in to work every single day with a smile on my face no matter what is going on in my life and I work hard to try to make everything run smoothly. I wouldn’t mind being told that I fucked up every now and then if I was also told that I was doing a good job every now and then, but it just so happens to be one of my pet peeves when someone only points out the flaws. I don’t need someone telling me I screwed up and making me feel bad about it. I can do that myself just fine. So now I’m discouraged about this job that I really, really liked. I already hate working for someone else when I know I have a God-given talent just sitting here being wasted, but working for someone else who doesn’t act like they appreciate the fact that I’m trying to do a great job, is extra discouraging for me. And now, my anxiety is through the roof about going in to work tomorrow (which is today by the time you read this) and I just want to cry because I can’t help but think this is not the way my life was supposed to be. I’m not trying to have a pity party, because it’s not like I have it bad. I just wish I was doing more of what makes me happy and still be able to thrive. My soul is restless. I don’t think this new relationship has helped matters any either. Nate is great. He gave me an early birthday present this weekend. It was a little gratitude shaker, which is kind of ironic at this point in time since I am having a hard time being grateful, it seems. But I saw it one day and he said my face lit up when I was holding it, so he thought I should have one. So he gave it to me. He also gave me a few orgasms this weekend. Those weren’t part of my birthday present. Those were just for fun. So, I changed his name to Nate the Great. It seems fitting. We had a really great weekend. We went out Friday night. Went to breakfast Saturday. I stayed the night with him Saturday night. We had breakfast at his place Sunday. And then I came home. And I fell into this abyss of wanting. I’m not sure I would be happy even if I did have everything I want. But I guess it’s not something I will know until I get it and at this rate, I may never get it. Or maybe I just have to figure out what “it” is. I think stability makes me irritable. I think helping someone else make their dreams come true makes me irritable. I feel like a caged bird. All I want to do is fly and every time I turn around my wings are freshly clipped. I know I should take my own advice of “change the way you look at things and the things you look at change.” But advice is always easier to give than to take. So it seems, for now, I’ve settled for humdrum. Tomorrow will be the same as today and yesterday will be the same as tomorrow. And eventually, I will break, because that’s what always happens. And even though Nate is great. He’s too practical to appreciate or support my flights of fancy and I may already be bored and scared of falling into a routine even though I know that’s what responsible adults do. And so I sit here with freshly clipped wings again.