Ducking

Good morning, darlings. It’s the last day of the Labor Day holiday weekend. Do I still call it the weekend, if it’s a Monday holiday but I don’t actually work anymore?

Weekend or not, it’s a sunny Monday, and Brian is home for the day. I managed to sleep until 6am. Not ideal, but still better than 4:30 am. If Mal did an early morning litter box romp, it wasn’t in my room. I think that played a big part in the extra sleep. Now, repeat that extra sleep for a few days.

Simple.

My anxiety is through the roof lately. I’ve been here for almost 6 months now, with no forward motion. I’m starting to feel like I’m never going to leave Florida. At the same time, the unknowns of leaving are FREAKING ME THE FUCK OUT.

Two nights ago, Mom asked if I was planning to drive north before the weather gets colder. “That’s rough country”, she warned me. “You won’t want to be going through there soon.” I’m currently plotting to fly up for the holidays, then driving up again in the spring. Shawshank asked about potential dates. I feel like the worst wife ever. I should be moving fucking heaven and earth to be with him.

and I’m not

and it fucking kills me.

Consequently, I’m anxious. Do I not care because I don’t love him enough? Is it because I’m fucking paralysed with fear of the unknowns that surround everything in my life right now? Could it simply be that my D&D alignment is best described as “chaotic apathy”?