Sorry I haven’t written lately.
Or hung out with you. Or called you back. Or left my apartment.
I’ve been working more of those twelve hour days. Who knew that sitting and typing all day could be so exhausting?
On the one hand it’s kind of nice, because I have friends and co-workers who do this thing of all the time and I’ve always felt guilty that I’ve never had to suffer through it, too. Even though I always get in at least 45 hours a week, I finally feel like I’m earning my keep.
And it’s kind of fun, like Finals Week in college. There’s a type of chaotic freedom that arises when everyone is so stressed and tired. People are wandering around in their PJS, ordering pizza and Chinese food, bitching out each other and being instantly forgiven, and moaning about how much they need a beer to no one in particular. And since my biggest jobs are basically research papers with art direction, I’m used to it. I revert back to Midterms Mode, and I’m suddenly I’m a pro.
On the other hand, it’s still a 12 hour day at work. And I haven’t had time to run, which always makes me feel like crap.
Plus, I’m just kind of depressed in general and I have no idea why. I usually snap out of it eventually, but until then I don’t want to pretend that I’m on. I’m not fooling anybody and I know it.
To be honest, I do know one reason why I‘m bummed, but it’s so stupid and lame that I don’t want to bother anyone by talking about it. And I know one reason why I’m frustrated, but it would be really mean to put it out there. So it sucks because that’s how I deal with stuff – by talking about it. I forgot what it’s like to let things weigh on my mind and my heart, but I don’t know what else to do about it.
I guess I’ve hit what I like to call the “Stephanie Crescendo”. When things are going well, I just start talking more and writing more and calling more and doing more… then I get to this point where I’m just talking and moving and thinking and reading and making stuff and laughing and making people laugh. It gets really loud and intense. I forget to shut up and listen and relax.
Then I crash. Then it’s dead silent. Then I start over.
It’s not as bipolar as it sounds… more like a story arc that builds, climaxes and resolves. Sometimes life plays out too fast and I have to stop to let myself catch up. Right now is one of those times. But I do miss you, and I’ll be sure to call as soon as I get there.