Re-entry is difficult
Aug. 13th, 2007 11:09 amI'm having a hard time switching back to real life. I've been vaguely out of sorts and groggy ever since I got back... sleeping weird hours -- which for me means I'm waking up at 8 or 9 in the morning, in bed before midnight, usually a nap or at least a long hazy period of uselessness in the afternoon. (Ok, when I write it out like that it doesn't sound all that weird, it's perfectly normal, but trust me: for me, those are some strange-ass hours.)
I keep catching myself in this cycle:
"I am bored" -> "Well, you could do X, or Y, or Z" -> "Those all feel like work, I'm too tired and can't think straight" -> "Ok, so don't do those then" -> "I am bored"
...which is a bit of a problem, because there really is a lot of work I ought to be doing, both of the paid and unpaid varieties. And I know inactivity just makes me even more groggy and useless, and having a backlog of work piled up makes me more reluctant to tackle it -- this whole thing is self-reinforcing about six different ways.
I drove two hours Saturday night to Grafton, for a drum circle that's apparently held every month out there. (It turns out this stuff is going on all the time; all you need to do is find the right mailing lists.) I got as far as the front door, could hear the drummers already started inside, and was suddenly filled with the unexpected certainty: no, this isn't where I want to be right now. So I went back to my car and drove back home.
Which was actually kind of okay: it was turning dusky, that magic-hour light that can make even semi-industrial feeder roads beautiful. I started out by getting on the turnpike going the wrong direction, which was annoying until I remembered it's not like I'm in a hurry or anything. So I just sort of drove around aimlessly through little towns in central MA for a while while it got dark, and then went home. Got there just in time to almost run over![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
squirrelhaven, who had just gotten home herself moments before, and was standing in the driveway looking up at the stars.
I keep catching myself in this cycle:
"I am bored" -> "Well, you could do X, or Y, or Z" -> "Those all feel like work, I'm too tired and can't think straight" -> "Ok, so don't do those then" -> "I am bored"
...which is a bit of a problem, because there really is a lot of work I ought to be doing, both of the paid and unpaid varieties. And I know inactivity just makes me even more groggy and useless, and having a backlog of work piled up makes me more reluctant to tackle it -- this whole thing is self-reinforcing about six different ways.
I drove two hours Saturday night to Grafton, for a drum circle that's apparently held every month out there. (It turns out this stuff is going on all the time; all you need to do is find the right mailing lists.) I got as far as the front door, could hear the drummers already started inside, and was suddenly filled with the unexpected certainty: no, this isn't where I want to be right now. So I went back to my car and drove back home.
Which was actually kind of okay: it was turning dusky, that magic-hour light that can make even semi-industrial feeder roads beautiful. I started out by getting on the turnpike going the wrong direction, which was annoying until I remembered it's not like I'm in a hurry or anything. So I just sort of drove around aimlessly through little towns in central MA for a while while it got dark, and then went home. Got there just in time to almost run over
squirrelhaven, who had just gotten home herself moments before, and was standing in the driveway looking up at the stars.
