Life in My TARDIS
I haven't posted anything since May. MAY! That's like a whole two months ago! This just isn't acceptable. Especially not since I managed a grand total of six blog posts in May, which I'm sure is a new record - for me, anyway. I do have a good excuse for lagging on the blogging front, though:
I've been working.
Yup, that is my excuse.
Now, you might not think it's a sufficient enough reason - and admittedly it's not the best - but I've given worse.
'I haven't known what to post about...'
'I've been doing my A-Levels...'
'I've been job hunting, which has turned me into a dull, lifeless zombie who can't string five words together competently, let alone write a half way decent blog post...!'
Blaaah-de-blah.
Those were pretty rubbish excuses, so at least this one has some substance.
I have genuinely been working though, and quite a few hours as well. I'm not complaining - it's been good to get out of the house and do something. But at times when Sunday has been my only day off (like this week) it can become pretty draining, and the motivation to try to write a blog post is just non-existent.
I'm even at work now, writing this. I thought that while I had a spare moment, I may as well do some writing, seeing as I'm feeling more inspired than I have done in a while. Though with my lunch break nearly over, my flow is guaranteed to be cut short in..5...4....3....2.....1....
SIX DAYS LATER
It's Sunday now. I'm at home. I've lost count of the number of times I've logged on to Blogger since Monday and then closed the page again without adding anything to this post. My motivation levels are back at rock bottom, though for different reasons to before.
Before, without a job, I felt quite pointless.
Now... I just feel drained. Completely and utterly drained.
Don't get me wrong, I love my job. It's perfect for me, and I'm a lot happier working at the library than I would be if I were a sales assistant in some clothes shop where I'd be surrounded by superficial, bitchy girls all day.
And I am so glad that I have been working so many more hours than I thought I would be, because I definitely prefer it to being stuck at home job hunting. So please don't think that I'm some whiny, ungrateful cow who doesn't know how lucky I am to actually have a job, because believe me, I really do. But I just woke up this morning, on the only day off I've had in the week, and I realised something major:
That's it. It's happened. I've gone and settled into this life where I get up, go to work, come home, go to bed and then wait for it to start it all over again - which is exactly what I was scared of.
I feel exactly like Rose Tyler did before the shop she worked in got blown up; the only difference being that I don't have an intriguing alien guy with his TARDIS parked around the corner waiting to whisk me away.
So I need to take responsibility for bringing excitement into my life. I need to get myself out there, meet new people, have fun, live my life - have my own TARDIS adventures, if you will (though perhaps without quite so many proper aliens...just some metaphorical ones).
If I want to be a published author, I need to do the writing.
If I want to pass my driving test, I need to start taking the lessons.
If I want to go out on nights out with friends, I need to spend the money.
(And maybe I should work on that clingy-huggy-inform-everyone-I-see-about-how-much-my-hormones-are-raging thing that seems to happen when I consume alcohol...)
You see, I thought that by having a job, I would be able to have more of a life because I wouldn't have to feel bad for going out. Plus, I'd actually have the money to go out. But what I didn't realise is that I'd end up being so tired that it'd be an effort to even arrange to go out, let alone actually get ready and get out the door.
Though, admittedly, I have felt a lot more relaxed on the few nights I actually have gone out, which I suppose means I'm kind of halfway there.
(Yes, I have had some nights out since I started my job, but not quite as many as I'd prefer.)
It must be all about adapting. I need to adapt to a routine of working and squeezing in some decent excitement in the evenings and keep my energy levels at an almost constant high.
And I should welcome my new body-clock with open arms, even if it no longer lets me sleep until 12 noon.
Maybe it'll take some more time to get used to it. Especially the body-clock thing. So bare with me - I'm working on it.
I'm determined not to become a boring person who only leaves the house for work.
And I'm also determined to get my arse going on some writing, because I would love to see my own book on the shelves in the library some time soon.
A quick update for you, by the way, while we're on the topic:
I've had some ideas I've been throwing around for a novel, which I'm quite happy about, though they might need some more development before I can start work properly.
But in the meantime, I have had a request from a friend of mine for a sequel to Perfection In A Tin! (Thanks Matt! :P)
So I'm going to start working on that, and it should be in the Story Corner soon. I'll keep you posted!
I'll also try not to neglect this blog too much, I really don't want for it to be kicked under the bed and forgotten about.
Quick But Important Note
I'd just like to reinforce the point that I really do love working in the library. I find my job fun, and I work with some amazingly lovely people.
Any moaning done in this post is more about my current inability to keep my energy up, not about the work itself.
Like I said, I'm trying to adapt, and I'm sure I'll master it soon. I just need to find the key to my TARDIS.
First stop: Everywhere.
I've been working.
Yup, that is my excuse.
Now, you might not think it's a sufficient enough reason - and admittedly it's not the best - but I've given worse.
'I haven't known what to post about...'
'I've been doing my A-Levels...'
'I've been job hunting, which has turned me into a dull, lifeless zombie who can't string five words together competently, let alone write a half way decent blog post...!'
Blaaah-de-blah.
Those were pretty rubbish excuses, so at least this one has some substance.
I have genuinely been working though, and quite a few hours as well. I'm not complaining - it's been good to get out of the house and do something. But at times when Sunday has been my only day off (like this week) it can become pretty draining, and the motivation to try to write a blog post is just non-existent.
I'm even at work now, writing this. I thought that while I had a spare moment, I may as well do some writing, seeing as I'm feeling more inspired than I have done in a while. Though with my lunch break nearly over, my flow is guaranteed to be cut short in..5...4....3....2.....1....
SIX DAYS LATER
It's Sunday now. I'm at home. I've lost count of the number of times I've logged on to Blogger since Monday and then closed the page again without adding anything to this post. My motivation levels are back at rock bottom, though for different reasons to before.
Before, without a job, I felt quite pointless.
Now... I just feel drained. Completely and utterly drained.
Don't get me wrong, I love my job. It's perfect for me, and I'm a lot happier working at the library than I would be if I were a sales assistant in some clothes shop where I'd be surrounded by superficial, bitchy girls all day.
And I am so glad that I have been working so many more hours than I thought I would be, because I definitely prefer it to being stuck at home job hunting. So please don't think that I'm some whiny, ungrateful cow who doesn't know how lucky I am to actually have a job, because believe me, I really do. But I just woke up this morning, on the only day off I've had in the week, and I realised something major:
That's it. It's happened. I've gone and settled into this life where I get up, go to work, come home, go to bed and then wait for it to start it all over again - which is exactly what I was scared of.
I feel exactly like Rose Tyler did before the shop she worked in got blown up; the only difference being that I don't have an intriguing alien guy with his TARDIS parked around the corner waiting to whisk me away.
So I need to take responsibility for bringing excitement into my life. I need to get myself out there, meet new people, have fun, live my life - have my own TARDIS adventures, if you will (though perhaps without quite so many proper aliens...just some metaphorical ones).
If I want to be a published author, I need to do the writing.
If I want to pass my driving test, I need to start taking the lessons.
If I want to go out on nights out with friends, I need to spend the money.
(And maybe I should work on that clingy-huggy-inform-everyone-I-see-about-how-much-my-hormones-are-raging thing that seems to happen when I consume alcohol...)
You see, I thought that by having a job, I would be able to have more of a life because I wouldn't have to feel bad for going out. Plus, I'd actually have the money to go out. But what I didn't realise is that I'd end up being so tired that it'd be an effort to even arrange to go out, let alone actually get ready and get out the door.
Though, admittedly, I have felt a lot more relaxed on the few nights I actually have gone out, which I suppose means I'm kind of halfway there.
(Yes, I have had some nights out since I started my job, but not quite as many as I'd prefer.)
It must be all about adapting. I need to adapt to a routine of working and squeezing in some decent excitement in the evenings and keep my energy levels at an almost constant high.
And I should welcome my new body-clock with open arms, even if it no longer lets me sleep until 12 noon.
Maybe it'll take some more time to get used to it. Especially the body-clock thing. So bare with me - I'm working on it.
I'm determined not to become a boring person who only leaves the house for work.
And I'm also determined to get my arse going on some writing, because I would love to see my own book on the shelves in the library some time soon.
A quick update for you, by the way, while we're on the topic:
I've had some ideas I've been throwing around for a novel, which I'm quite happy about, though they might need some more development before I can start work properly.
But in the meantime, I have had a request from a friend of mine for a sequel to Perfection In A Tin! (Thanks Matt! :P)
So I'm going to start working on that, and it should be in the Story Corner soon. I'll keep you posted!
I'll also try not to neglect this blog too much, I really don't want for it to be kicked under the bed and forgotten about.
Quick But Important Note
I'd just like to reinforce the point that I really do love working in the library. I find my job fun, and I work with some amazingly lovely people.
Any moaning done in this post is more about my current inability to keep my energy up, not about the work itself.
Like I said, I'm trying to adapt, and I'm sure I'll master it soon. I just need to find the key to my TARDIS.
First stop: Everywhere.
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