Restless

I’m feeling that longing again, that restlessness that tends to bubble up, telling me that there’s something I’m meant to be doing with my life that I’m not.  I just am not sure what that is.  I’m stuck in a rut – making a living, but not making a life.  I feel like I’m spinning my wheels, and not getting traction.  I feel scattered, unfocused.

Part of it is working three jobs – and all spread out over the week.  I do grant writing on Mondays, Thursdays and every other Friday.  I do book-keeping on Tuesdays and the other Friday.  I also do cancer registry work on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Then there’s the household stuff, and the kids stuff, and the pets… So my writing has taken a back seat.  Or maybe a seat in the trunk.  Even in the evening, instead of writing I’m so brain dead that I’m plugged into the TV, or dozing off with the kids.

Part of it is that, three years out from the separation, I’m getting tired of living in this holding pattern.  I’m living in the same house, sleeping on the same side of the bed… I’m working, but doing jobs that engage my mind but not my heart… I’m not dating… it’s almost like Tom isn’t here, but I’m still going through the same motions.  Just by myself.

It’s time to start dreaming, and to see what I want to be when I grow up.  See who I want to be.