Moody (rant)

I’ve been so irritated/tired/moody lately.

Ever since the florist gig, I’ve been tired. My sleep pattern has returned to normal, but it doesn’t feel like it. I’ve been easily annoyed at and by people. I’m troubled.

Father’s returned and things are supposed to get back to normal, but I feel like he’s tired too, which means I have to take over. On top of that, the kids are distancing from me. It’s my and their attitude, both.

Mother’s come into my life again. Whether it is sleeping over, or her health, or things she needs help with; my mind is allotting more parts to her too now.

Then, there is guitar. I’ve gotten more than what I had expected. I did want to learn more. I did want a more serious teacher. But this is starting to become too much. It was supposed to be a fun course during the spring time. Now I have to memorize and learn chord progressions, scales, a group song, and a final solo song performance. And there’s testing. And there’s a journal in the end that I should have started to work on.

I feel so busy. The time is passing by too fast. I don’t like it. I don’t like my time flying by. I don’t like that I wake up in the morning and I feel like I don’t have enough time (even though I have a day or sometimes more) without a schedule. I don’t like feeling busy!

And also, I’ve been so easily irritated or annoyed with people. I keep reminding myself “I should be nicer to my people”, that I should be… but I’m not! I’m cold and blunt, and my people are scattered. My friends, my family… everyone is scattered. Everyone is busy with their own lives. The times are changing. I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.

When I am in a rut of a feeling like this, I often times keep to myself. I can’t be bothered to explain the angst, and it feels too difficult. It feels too difficult to lay it all out – what’s bothering me, what’s eating at me to make me so moody – I can’t. So I guess for the past weeks, I’ve been just keeping it in… and boiling, and boiling, and it’s just been darkening my mood.

The issue that has been a troubling topic… is what am I going to do with my life? It started when my old friend, P, told me that she was job-hunting. And not just for a part-time job — she was job-hunting for her career. She was building herself up, and she even got her G1 for her driver’s license. When she told me that, it just kind of hit me. Even that friend of mine is now searching for her career job. It just hit me.

I had, for the longest time, been walking around with a unsolid plan for my future. I didn’t have a passion to make into a career. But I did have bills. And I’d planned to just pay them. I didn’t think of earning good money. I didn’t think of saving money.  I was just living day by day. I had planned on getting just any part-time jobs after graduation, and just step out first and survive. Then it hit me — how, soon I would have to go to friend gatherings where everyone’s immediate topic of interest would be to ask, “So what are you doing now?”… and I would have to face the dread of saying “oh, just, you know… this… yeah… for now… yup.” and nod while making a stupid face. It hit me that that was not what I wanted. I didn’t want that at all. I already hated people from the extended family questioning me about my life. I didn’t want to have to deal with that amongst people my age too. I realized that that age was coming. The age when everyone that you encountered asked you about what you were doing in your life. Career-wise. Money-wise. Stability-wise. I just felt… that the time was coming for me to straighten up my sh*ts. And I didn’t like it one bit. I don’t like it at all. I don’t like it one bit.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s