Do you ever scroll through old pictures and get sad?
You know, the other night I was sad that I wasn’t sad. I couldn’t fall asleep because all I could think about was when the next time I’d be sad would be. Odd, isn’t it? But I miss it.
For some reason, when I’m sad, I feel like life has more meaning. Or maybe I’m just crazy. It’s not like my life is going exceptionally well, but it’s calm, at least in the grand scheme of things. It’s about to get really hectic for the next couple of weeks, but I’ll survive. Then I’ll have to defend my thesis and get a job…gross. I have to get a real job. I hate the thought of that.
I also forgot to mention that I’m officially out of burnout. Or maybe I already said that. Who knows. It felt like I was in burnout forever, but it was actually two whole months. I’ll never do it again. That was one of the worst experiences of my life.
What else do I want to say?
I miss a cigarette—bad. It’s been over six months since I touched alcohol or cigarettes, but I still miss them. I miss the smoke filling my lungs and then leaving my lips, like all the stress was escaping my body. I don’t know…I’m only giving them up for one year, and then I’ll probably go back to stress smoking and drinking every now and then.
It sounds bad, but, y’know…I could be doing worse. Let a girl live.
I’m also getting fully back into the gym this week. I’m trying to work out three days a week, and today will be day three.
Let me tell you something—I only go for one hour, and I mean exactly one hour. Once my watch timer hits sixty minutes, my ass is out of there. I feel like I went through hell and back training for my marathon. The last thing I want to do is spend hours in a gym. I’d rather die…well, that’s dramatic. I’d just rather not torture myself.
I do miss running, though. I miss feeling free. Just not enough to run again right now.
Maybe next week.