relentless

Sundays are the best and worst of times. A broad of expanse of hours with absolutely no expectations or responsibilities followed by the sinking feeling that it is just a dream: I must wake up and return to real life in the morning. These days, real life has been exceptionally hard to accept. This morning, around six a.m., I trudged outside, wrapped up to my eyes, and scraped ice off my car windows. The bitter cold makes me bitter. It's a lot of waiting around, waiting to warm up and just waiting in the sameness trying to feel at peace. It seems like peace would be a quiet gray thing, but color and warmth are what I'm craving most right now. My heart is heavy.

I try to placate myself with new schemes; I think part of the problem is that I'm bored at my job and sit for hours in front of a blank screen, making up projects for myself. After sitting for so long, you start to wonder why am I here again? What is this all for? I try to remember what life is all about but the question is always too big to answer.

I want an eternity of vacation days in my bed and a million free dinners. I really don't want to grow up, don't want to have to do a single thing. It's a big, heavy weight that presses me most when I wake to do the exact same thing, every single day. Relentless is the word that comes to mind. The worst part is that I don't have it bad at all, and I don't understand why I'm not content. I think of so many single parents, working 10 hour days, 7 days a week, how completely exhausting and terrible that must be. Why can't I be grateful or even just okay?

I'm trying to muster up my patience and create peace. I take deep breaths all the time, and I slow down my mind as much as I can. This new adulthood though, it's challenging me to pieces.