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I seem to be in a funk again. Stupid funk.
There doesn't seem to be any one thing causing it, so once again I think I'm just stuck in one of those stupid situations where I have lots of things that, taken singly, wouldn't stress me out or bother me all that much, but because they are coming at me all at once, I'm now a cranky, stressed-out wreck.
I'm beginning to think I need a shorthand way to refer to this state of being, because while it's not as deep or all-encompassing as an all-out depressive episode (I've had enough of them at this point that I know what they feel like, and this ain't it), it's not really minor enough for me to chalk it up to having a bad day either. It's the middle ground between the two, where I feel extraordinarily shitty and kind of defeated, and the knowledge that things will improve soon doesn't really help because these things, they are not improving now. Patience: I don't has it.
I guess "funk" is as good a shorthand as any, all things considered. Otherwise I'm going to end up calling it "the Troubles" or something stupid like that, and I have a feeling that would make me sound like one of those middle-aged white dudes who write Very Serious Books about their middle-aged white dude issues. Because I am plagued, you see. Plagued by my Troubles. OH, WOE AND ANGST. I must now quit my middle-aged white dude job (which is Professor of Something Very Obscure And Yet Strangely Important, or possibly Maverick Journalist) and leave behind my well-meaning family and friends so I can go on a Road Trip of Self-Discovery, where I will learn many important life lessons from ~*authentic*~ people, who are authentic because they are not middle-class and/or middle-aged and/or white and/or dudes like myself. And then, because I have learned so many important life lessons from these ~*authentic*~ people, I will leave them behind forever and return to my middle-aged white dude job, where I will be inexplicably happy and no longer plagued by those pesky Troubles. THANKS, ROAD TRIP OF SELF-DISCOVERY!
...um. That...kind of got away from me, there.
You know what's really horrifying? I've read and/or owned SO MANY BOOKS with that exact plot, and many of them were bestsellers. Seriously, that "authenticity" crap is gross, and yet oh-so-very popular. The funk, it deepens! :P
There doesn't seem to be any one thing causing it, so once again I think I'm just stuck in one of those stupid situations where I have lots of things that, taken singly, wouldn't stress me out or bother me all that much, but because they are coming at me all at once, I'm now a cranky, stressed-out wreck.
I'm beginning to think I need a shorthand way to refer to this state of being, because while it's not as deep or all-encompassing as an all-out depressive episode (I've had enough of them at this point that I know what they feel like, and this ain't it), it's not really minor enough for me to chalk it up to having a bad day either. It's the middle ground between the two, where I feel extraordinarily shitty and kind of defeated, and the knowledge that things will improve soon doesn't really help because these things, they are not improving now. Patience: I don't has it.
I guess "funk" is as good a shorthand as any, all things considered. Otherwise I'm going to end up calling it "the Troubles" or something stupid like that, and I have a feeling that would make me sound like one of those middle-aged white dudes who write Very Serious Books about their middle-aged white dude issues. Because I am plagued, you see. Plagued by my Troubles. OH, WOE AND ANGST. I must now quit my middle-aged white dude job (which is Professor of Something Very Obscure And Yet Strangely Important, or possibly Maverick Journalist) and leave behind my well-meaning family and friends so I can go on a Road Trip of Self-Discovery, where I will learn many important life lessons from ~*authentic*~ people, who are authentic because they are not middle-class and/or middle-aged and/or white and/or dudes like myself. And then, because I have learned so many important life lessons from these ~*authentic*~ people, I will leave them behind forever and return to my middle-aged white dude job, where I will be inexplicably happy and no longer plagued by those pesky Troubles. THANKS, ROAD TRIP OF SELF-DISCOVERY!
...um. That...kind of got away from me, there.
You know what's really horrifying? I've read and/or owned SO MANY BOOKS with that exact plot, and many of them were bestsellers. Seriously, that "authenticity" crap is gross, and yet oh-so-very popular. The funk, it deepens! :P
