Space and choice

Today was a great day for several reasons. First of all, I took my last final exam for the semester over my lunch hour, so I'm totally done with those classes. Secondly, I've been thinking for a little while about just transferring to PSU instead of finishing my associates and then transferring, and it turns out if I do that I can avoid taking public speaking AND the final semester of chemistry. So YAY! I actually don't have to take anything next semester at all, but I am going to finish out the year of Spanish, plus take another course that interests me so I can qualify for financial aid to pay for the Spanish. I'm thinking about maybe P.E.

So right now I don't have any school at all to worry about, which is very relaxing. I'm excited because this frees up some of my time and makes way for other things I want to do, like writing, going to the gym, and making a dent in that stack of books on my nightstand. I also need to take some time and wrap my mind around how I am going to provide meals for myself, since lately I have been hitting convenience foods pretty hard and that kind of thing doesn't make me feel good, physically or mentally.

Remember how last post I was talking about my trouble with too many options? I have done some more thinking about that and realized that the idea of making solid decisions is really scary for me. I think some of it is still fallout from the breakup, where I thought I had made the right decision and had some idea of where things were going and then they ended. Yes, I was the one who ended them, but I don't think at the time I had any idea of how much those events would rock me to the core and really change who I was. And maybe it's because I was the one who ended things and caused T (and myself) a whole lot of pain in the process that I'm reluctant to make any more decisions because deep down, I'm afraid of doing that again. I'm afraid of being so wrong it's painful.

But you can't go through life just waiting for circumstances to decide for you. That's nothing but a waste of free will.

Too many options

Hello, I'm Carrie and angst is my default state. If you've read anything I've written here that should be abundantly clear by now. I'm so good at it I even get angsty about my angst, thinking maybe I should be happier and I'm effing things up by being so dissatisfied all of the time. Well I had a conversation with a friend this morning that, out of nowhere, changed everything. She proposed a theory that explained a lot of what I have been feeling, that I feel anxious because I have too many options. This totally resonated for me. For instance, lately I have been thinking about why I would even want a partner right now and the unromantic answer is that I would like to have that area of my life nailed down and decided. Hot, right? They should put that on a greeting card.

Having so many directions my life could go in is pretty stressful, especially when you figure in the pressure I put on myself to make the 'correct' decisions. I realize I am constantly looking for some sort of outside validation or guidance as to what I should do, be it writing, reading, going to school, traveling, whatever. I hate that. I'm the decider, dammit. But to be the decider I need to actually, you know, decide things and take responsibility for those decisions. Lately I've been feeling a little too 'things are happening to me' instead of 'I am making things happen' and I don't like it. So I think my first big decision is going to be to move my locus of control inward. It feels right.

Reclaiming free time

Normally, my weekend mantra is "homework, then fun". Saturdays are for Chem labs, Sundays are for online Chem homework and anything else that might be due. This weekend I tried a little experiment and gave myself permission to not do any homework at all. This weekend the plan was to prioritize fun. I woke up around eight (late for me), fed the dog, scrambled some eggs for breakfast, sat on the sofa and just turned the old brain off for the better part of a morning. Oh it was so nice to stop worrying about my business and get wrapped up in the drama on Private Practice. I mean really, who cares about a little chemistry homework when there are babies whose lives are hanging in the balance?

The best part about my morning was that by the afternoon I was really tired of watching TV so I sat down and did my Chem lab. With the pressure off (I had already come to grips with the effect not turning it in would have on my course grade), I found doing the lab to be an almost interesting and enjoyable experience.

Sunday was more of the same. There was chem homework and laundry to do but I started my day with what I wanted to do. Eventually I got that stuff done too, and I felt more in control of my weekend and less pressured to complete everything right! effing! now! It was a good thing.