I'm in such a weird place right now. I got home from work yesterday in the worst of moods. I brushed past my roommates and flopped onto my bed with The Build in my ears, guilt and shame and the last remnants of depressing birthday whiskey swimming around my insides. I threw myself into the cold again, letting my bike take me where it would, but even the bitter wind and the screaming of my muscles could shake me out of it. I fell asleep shivering in bed, with something under my skin and a bad taste in my mouth. I quit my job Wednesday, after only two weeks of working, and calling in sick twice in that time. I feel guilty because I wasn't raised that way. Hard work is a way of life, sucking it up and doing things you hate is just the way it is. It's like spitting in my father's face after he worked 20 years at a job he hates to put me through college so I could get trumped up ideas about being an artists and quit my foodservice jobs when i have to mop too much. But then again, I made a promise to myself a while back - that regardless of the past, the way i was raised, the principles that my parents adhere to, I would do what i wanted, when i wanted, retirement and stability and all those antiquated ideals be damned. I think about where I thought my 20's would find me when I was younger - far far away, taller, thinner, with thicker hair and fewer emotional hangups. that's not to say that i'm in a bad place, though maybe i'm in denial a little. all i know is that i know very well what it means to be depressed, and i had it easier than some, but i'm happy for the first time in years, i just feel a little strange about it. to be honest, i don't even feel that bad about quitting. i really don't know what i feel bad about. maybe i'm just still hung over, which i guarantee is not outside the realm of possibility.
to be fair, i know what (who) has gotten under my skin in recent months, i just don't know what to do about it (him).