I’ve been pretty complacent this summer. I’ve been plugging along, working, trying to take advantage of all the fun and unique things around here. I’ve been job-hunting off and on, dutifully attending Weight Watchers meetings each week, and cooking as much as I can. I’ve been using our complex’s amenities that I didn’t use last year: when the weather permits I’ve been swimming in the pool and playing on the tennis court.
And yet, the feeling of trapped hopelessness still overwhelms every now and again, and I crave spontaneity so hard that it hurts. As I read my friend’s fabulous blog on life as an exchange student in Ireland, I grow more and more restless. The mere idea that I could just get in my car tomorrow and drive to visit my friends, my family, even just visit somewhere I’ve never been, makes me almost giddy. But then I remember that I have a job, a husband, dogs, and a life here that I have to tend to. And the heavy realization is enough to make me gloomy for a couple of hours.
Usually this gloom is helped by a good time with friends, a fun night out on the town, or a good writing session. Today none of those things is working, and I know I’m just going to have to let my feelings work through until they’re replaced by contentment again. Because it’s back to work tomorrow.