When I go to write sentences and words, they shrivel up. I know it sounds mundane and pedestrian and so full of excuses but I can't write anymore. I used to be able to sit down, thoughts and ideas flowing, or at least selfish musings, and produce coherent and thoughtful text. Now I sit down and...stare. I've found this to be increasingly common in my life as of late--not with just writing either. When someone speaks to me, instead of actually listening and trying to make sense of it in order to respond correctly, I tune most of it out. I end up having to scramble to make sense of what I chose to hear from them when I can tell they're about to finish their sentence.
It's making me look rather stupid. I've begun to wonder if I have some sort of learning or...listening? deficiency. It's getting to be somewhat of a hindrance at my new work as well. The mother has no patience for repetitions or slow work, and that's all I seem to be full of nowadays. I have no room for the inconsequential things you are telling me. When it comes down to it, I cannot listen to you talking about where cups go and what kind of water and at what temperature your brats may have. It is not in my interest whatsoever and I (un)consciously tune you out in order to focus on something more aligned to my interests. Like how much I would rather have no job than this job. About what would happen if I explained to you how absolutely insane your neuroses surrounding your children and household are while running down the stairs, out the door, past the gate, down the hill, and away from it all forever. I think about different writers and how they get their points across so fluidly and with so little fat. I think about why I can't listen right now--it would behoove me to pay attention and yet--wait--I'm still not.
I would hope that I would be able to pay attention to things I do like, like academia and Anthropology and go on to make some sort of name for myself. I know that nothing I will ever "discover" or painstakingly reword in the future will be new or exciting differences to the world. To think that I could produce something original for humanity at this point in the face of the extreme advances we have seen over time would be foolish. What about trying? Is that just as foolish then?
I want to not dread getting up in the morning. I don't want to count the hours, the very minutes, I have until I can go home and just be alone and sleep. I don't want people to get a false impression of me and think I'm slow or incapable just because I simply couldn't care less about being there or listening to them. I hate depending on those people worse though.
I think of tearing up paper after paper, fluttering the scraps out the open window. I focus on the moment I can check my text messages so I can have a 5 second break from judgmental house heads and spoiled kids.
I can't do this anymore. A tedious but easy job I disliked was one thing, a job that makes me feel less than what I am, though, I cannot tolerate or stand for. I am smart. I have important things to say. Yes, I can scrub an All-Clad frying pan, no I don't need you to tell me how to get the stains off. Every day I go there I feel less and less of a person and more and more of an incompetent robot that can't even get the kids to brush their teeth.
It's taking a toll on me.
