The last two weeks of my life have felt more like two months… maybe years if I really want to be dramatic. Yeah. Let’s go with years. That last two weeks have pretty much lasted FOREVER.
There we go. Moving on.
“Why has it felt so long?”
Funny you should ask… Reader.
The last two weeks have been somewhat of a spiritual “funk” for me. Not necessarily bad… just not great. Still. Quiet. A little awkward honestly.
For starters, after moving into a new apartment (shout out to the folks for lending a LARGE helping hand) I was emotionally and physically exhausted.
I don’t know what it is about moving, transition, change, etc. that is so hard on me. I hate it. I hate going from comfortable routine, predictability, and familiarity to … not those things. I hate quickly and suddenly losing those things because I am forced realize that I crafted a small but very secure identity in those things. To lose them is to lose myself. I don’t like starting over from scratch. What then am I left with? I don’t like uprooting. To dig another set of roots takes time and well… I’m busy. Perhaps more truthfully, I make myself busy because I inwardly know that where my time, energy and focus goes is not where it should.
Change just doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel natural. It’s not fun.