April 30, 2003
Crawling
When I first moved back here I had a plan.
I was going to work hard and forget about my social life for a while. Forget that I enjoy being the dotted on club kid, social butterfly poster girl and concentrate on important things for a while. Things like getting caught up on my bills and saving enough money to move far, far away. Things like finally deciding what I want to do with my life rather than drifting along aimlessly the way so many others seem to. Things that in the long run, in the near future, would matter.
Except somehow along the way my conviction went flying out the window.
And I settled into a comfortable pattern of working just enough to scrape by and spending the rest of my time in quiet misery. Embracing old habits, putting on a familiar cloak of depression, apathy and isolation. Forgetting about the world around me and just existing.
And sometimes I�m so detached that I feel like I�m watching myself on a black and white television screen. Just sitting in a chair watching the images float by on the screen with a sense of uninterested awareness.. because really, they all seem so insignificant sometimes/all the time.
And I know I need to snap out of it. I know I need to turn things around. But I feel like a little girl trapped in a huge hole. I can see a ray of light shining down on top of me but the top is so far up and the sides are so steep that I don�t even want to bother trying.
Today my boss pulled me aside and told me that I�m one of her best/favorite employees. She said that she really doesn�t want to loose me and that if I ever need to talk about anything all I have to do is let her know. She even offered to give me her cell phone number. And all I said in return was, �I don�t want to talk about it. Really Annabel, I�m fine.�
[But for some reason I forget about all this for a while when you�re around and we�re all caught up in being us. And I decided that this weekend, if it�s not horribly hot, I want to go hiking on Mount Lemmon or in Sabino Canyon. I want to watch some stupid Sunday morning television show and eat breakfast in bed. I want to feel better for a while.]
p.s. Hey Liz, try emailing me here.
6:03 p.m.