I snuck up to the den to go online in the middle of the night because my mind is going a mile a minute (or more!), and I can't sleep because the thoughts won't stop running around inside my head. They are self-doubting thoughts, ugly "I won't get anywhere ever" thoughts, scary "I'm running out of money" thoughts, bloated "I'm fat, fat, fat thoughts." So I am typing them out. Spilling my guts. Naming my demons. Be gone!
Fact is, I'm terrified, but I'm trying hard to ignore that as I get used to being a couch potato. One month into my third bout of unemployment in less than two years, and I'm beginning to feel worthless. Again. The worst part is, in the midst of sending out perfected resumes and flawless cover letters, I've become more and more desparate to do my own thing. I have good ideas--great ideas! I have the drive, the desire, the focus. I just don't have the money with which to begin. It makes getting passionate about working for someone else . . . well, much less attractive.
If it wasn't everything at once, I might be able to relax, to reassure myself it will all work out. But then my mind chides, "you need to lose weight and get in shape", "you must pay off your credit card", "you should get a boyfriend and go out more", "you have got to send out those manuscripts you've written!" And, of course, lest for a moment I forget, "GET A JOB!!!!!"
1:16 a.m. now. Tomorrow is another day, or at least Annie says so. Actually, today is already another day. Now, if I can just convince my brain to let me go to sleep . . .