Existential crisis

I'm in such a funk. Don't know why really. Think I need some time alone, to think, to plan, to dig deep into myself--those corners I only go to alone.

As I sit and write this, my partner is on the bed beside my desk--it's hard to write when I know someone's here. I want some privacy.

I love the work I'm doing in advocacy. Actually had a call today that reminded me how important I am to the woman needing me after her assault--I am a buffer zone and a necessary one. I needed that--needed to feel needed.

Came home, and I love my home, but I needed some time to gather before I was "on" again.

And I want so bad to be writing my thesis but I have SO much to do right now--it has to wait.

So here I am, feeling blah. Feeling uninspired. Wanting so bad to turn off the tube, go for a walk with the bits or something. Yet sometimes I am so gratified by vegging in front of the tube.

I want a revolution. I want a fire inside. I want passion about something. I think I really miss school. Perhaps I need a good book. Think maybe I'll reread Adrienne Rich's "Of Woman Born"--it shook me inside when I read this book and I need a shake right now.

Still haven't committed to any real challenge. No editorial written. No zine issued yet.

I'm swirling and wasting time and really, really tired.

Goodnight.