Today is just one of those days when you just want to bury your head in the sand and not look at the rest of the world for the next hundred thousand years. In the interest of self-preservation, I'm hoping that this, too, will pass because I have a gajillion pages of grading to go through, and at least several piles of books to plow through.
Also, it doesn't help that I've been sick for the last week and a half and the cough is as tenacious and stubborn as some species of slugs and it just refuses to let go and release my airways.
It's never a good day when someone tells you that, despite your best intentions and preparations, that what you've done is still an unqualified disaster, and that they are disappointed in you because they never expected you to suck. So. Much. Like, seriously, I'm questioning my decisions the last few years in letting the time between graduating my masters and returning to the academe and I know I swore I wouldn't regret my Life Decisions but it's just exhausting to keep on second-guessing yourself and attempting (poorly) not to show that you are deeply affected by everything. "What do you want me to do?" I sometimes want to ask the universe. "Am I not doing enough?"
And now that I know what direction my life will be taking in the next three years or so, there's that part of me that's panicking like mad because it's like wondering if it's the best thing to do and yet knowing deep down inside that it's just the jitters and really this is something I want to do for, like, ever and yet wondering if I can even make it. Like, it's easy to build castles made out of clouds inside my head, but when it's time to build the motherfucking castle out of real brick and mortar, then you're not even sure how to lay the first foundation stone.
So this scares me. This scares the freaking beejeezus out of me. Because I don't know if I can do it -- like, serious moment of self-doubt here. I'm not the kind of person who can just churn out thing after thing after thing because I know I don't have that kind of stamina and I don't have that kind of energy and I don't have that kind of screw-up ballsy courage that makes people jump out of airlocks or drill platforms or TARDISes and really, I don't know if I'm capable of anything anymore. Maybe all the fight's been drained out of me. Because I'm tired, man -- the exhaustion of a body that's been sick too long, and a mind that desperately requires rest.
But at the same time, I also know that I can't. There are too many things that need to be done, and there are too many deadlines to meet, and there are too many people counting on me to do the best damn job I can do with the time given to me, and if my only break is thirty minutes reading fanfiction or watching an episode of Star Trek, then I'll take it. Because I have to, and because I don't want to disappoint anyone else. God, I'm tired of disappointing others. And myself.
Hopefully, tomorrow will be better. Right? Right?