WaffleJungle

As the days rush by with a hurried salute, I feel my sense of hope and excitement ebbing away. Slowly, uncertainty and depression chipped away my thoughts, my imagination. Soon, it began to feel unreal, impossible and out of reach. I lost track of time and days. It must have been more than two weeks? Or is it not?

This morning, I woke up to a gorgeous warm sunrise that peeped into my window. Surprised, I stared at it a moment and briefly asked myself why didn’t I ever notice it before? Perhaps it was it that I never really cared or simply took it for granted. I drifted back to sleep, to a mind infested with work. Plagued by panic and stress over timelines, with deadlines striding towards me. Dread is such a bad sleeping partner. He drains, he teases.

I feel guilt. There are so many wonderful things happening to me now. I’ve gotten a dream house, blessed with a wonderful partner, surrounded with lovely friends. Things are working for me, or so it seems. Yet I am fixated on this spot of irritation. And it grew to gargantuan proportions where I feel I can no longer ignore.

I want out. Yet I’m not desperate enough to force my hand.