it seems that i just cannot handle not having anything to do. when does my anxiety creep in the most? when i have no agenda. no plans. when i have to conjure up within myself the energy and strength to act as secretary of state. schedule my own time. oy. this whole “working from home” thing can be really. fucking. hard. sometimes. it’s a dance i play between bliss and torture. i can work anywhere i want, whenever i want. unfortunately, this means i can work anywhere, anytime, and thus often feel incredibly guilty about not working all the time, or feeling like i’m not working enough, or under my own volition, with the utmost efficiency.
being a perfectionist is a bitch. nothing is ever good enough. nothing is done the right way. everything could always be “so much better”. second guessing. low self confidence. oy. it all stems from perfection. perfection is unattainable, but hell, i’m so damn competitive and ambitious, i’ll try anyway. i could die trying. but fortunately, i’m too smart/apathetic for that.