Fighting Fires From Space

I am very bored.




Most of the work I have piled on my desk depends on other people doing things so that I can do things to complete the work that's on my desk. And it is a pain.



So, I sit here and do nothing. That's not quite true. I did download Emma to my computer and read the first twenty pages. The text is such a slog when I'm not in the right mood. The way characters speak is so unpleasant. Everyone uses five words when one would do. I'm also bugged by the way Austen bounces between calling her protagonist Emma and Miss Woodhouse. It took me way too long to figure out who Miss Woodhouse is.



The thing is... If I was in the right mood I would enjoy the pompous way in which the book is written. I've read this book before. I greatly enjoyed Jane Eyre when I read that. I hated the characters more that the writing style of Wuthering Heights. And Great Expectations is just sad. When I'm in the right mood the way the thing is written isn't as much the focus as the characters and plot.



I'm really tired, though. I got to work and started to yawn soon after my butt hit the seat and I've been yawning ever since then.



I go to see the brain doctor tomorrow. I think he's going to take me off this medication and put me on another one. I think that because I'm approaching week six on meds and not much has changed since week three. I do feel better than I did when I started this stuff, there are moments when the weight on my shoulders are lessened and I think to myself that I feel okay, like there could be a better way to feel, but okay is pretty damned nice. But this happens maybe once a day for a minute, if I'm lucky, but it hasn't gotten anywhere beyond that. I still spend a lot of time thinking about how nice it would be to not be.



Part of me doesn't want to switch because then it's a new waiting game for six more weeks. Yuck. But if I don't switch I'll stay this way or go back to how I was forever and the whole point is to not feel like that/this anymore. I'm supposed to feel more "normal," whatever that is.



Ultimately, though, it'll be up to the brain doctor. For all I know he'll want to wait another six weeks to see if this'll work out for me.



To go back to those moments when I've felt okay, I mean really okay, recently I have to wonder if that is how most people feel most of the time. If it is then I truly envy most people.



The brain doctor keeps telling me that I'm a bright guy, but I just haven't had any breaks. Now while I know I'm fairly smart, I'm not sure about the breaks. When I finally told my parents about the brain doctor this weekend and I mentioned the breaks thing my mother said that maybe he means like how hard it is for me to get a job somewhere but when I get there they love the work that I do but then it's just as hard to move on to somewhere else when it comes time to move. I'm not sure that's what he means though.



Not that breaks would necessarily matter. Part of feeling this way for so long is that I really don't know what I want to be other than fairly comfortable. The last thing I remember really wanting to be was a fire fighter/astronaut/president all at the same time. (Yes, I would lead the USA from my orbiting fire fighting super satellite. Where else would I do it?) For a time I wanted to make movies, but that was briefly during a horrible year and went away. Telling stories has always interested me, but how often does that keep a person comfortable. Still, I need something that's not this. This is not good. It’s soul sucking and often mind numbing.



Maybe my outlook will be different if my brain starts acting "normal" and I'm "normal." Maybe I'll want a somebody so much that I'll try. Maybe I'll know what I want to do with my life and make a change. Maybe I'll stop being a coward and just pick-up and go. Maybe I'll start to like being around groups of people and living within a short distance of thousands won't make my heart flutter. Maybe I just won't care.



Maybe.