A rainy Monday. After stressing about Monday all day yesterday, the day was quite benign.
It began with a 4 am nightmare after which sleep eluded me. It was clock-watch-and-worry time.
I can't help it, it's what I do.
I started with work, the economy, (I guiltily admit that this was my first worry, perhaps because the nightmare had been work-related); I then moved on to family members, health and well-being, the general misery and failure of my personal life, and it went on from there.
I'm not remotely proud of unscrewing the Bell Jar in the middle of the night and crawling up inside it, but a girl has to do what a girl has to do. Sometimes there is no fighting the big worries that crop up in the early hours of the morning. You just have to let them in. Maybe it's really the only way to release them.
I had a mediocre weekend. Let me explain.
After attending what feels like the thousandth-wedding shower of my lifetime (albeit a fabulous one of a wonderful friend) I left feeling like I always do, like the one who is eternally not chosen, the ultimate singleton. The feeling didn't last, dinner with 5 girlfriends and 3 bottles of wine teased it out of me, but I still had to face Sunday morning. Ugh. Sometimes.
So now it's Monday evening, I've spent the evening the way I imagine grown-ups do, cooking, tidying up, watching the rain, feeding my sister's cat. And now, back in the swing of the work week, I feel a little more serene, like "here's my place".
It's the weekends that are scary. That remind me my identity has not yet found a niche in my personal life. It's all wrapped up in my work-life, where, for 10 years, I have been able to lose more hours then I have spent on myself, working for some nameless reason, covering ground that seems endless. But it's what I do. I'm reminded of a quote I once heard, someone defending their occupation-- "It's what I do--not who I am"...
Is it who I am?
Or what I do?
I think it's time to start really evaluating life outside the office.