Some of them, at least.

I feel like a lazy slug. And if I feel lazy, it must be true.

Right?

Hell if I know anymore.

I feel lazy when I blog- I should be doing something "productive." Yes, I do realize in some small part of my little brain that this is productive in its own right, but I'm emoting for Bob's Sake!*

I feel lazy when I surf the internet. This is a touchy topic for me. I need to do a lot of internet research for both the class I'm going to be teaching in the fall (though I hit pay dirt when I found a Public Health Law directory. w00t!), and for my eating disorder work, but I tend to get a little off task. Click click click click...and all of a sudden I'm watching stupid cat videos and snorting Diet Coke out my nose.

I feel lazy when I play with my cat- isn't there something better to be doing? I'm pretty sure Aria thinks so. She hates being woken up from a nap, but if I didn't wake the little dear up, I'd never have any interaction with her at all!

Hell, I feel lazy for sleeping! I'd be content with my insomnia if only one or two nights with minimal sleep didn't make me psycho and suicidal. I hate myself sometimes for needing my 8-9 hours of sleep per night. One of my professors functioned on four- or so rumor has it. I totally believe it. The man was the Energizer Bunny on meth.

I think it all stems from this feeling of horrific inadequacy. I know, I know, we all feel inadequate in some areas, no matter what. But it's this feeling that, somehow, in some way, I'm not good enough. I don't think this caused my eating disorder. I do remember thinking that if I ate healthier, I would feel better about myself. Even now, being weight restored, it's hard for me to let go of my "thinness" trump card.

So my writing gets critisized. So what? I'm thin.

So my co-worker is a psychotic bitch. So what? I'm thin.

So I'm locked up and miserable. So what? I'm thin.

Then, however, I reached a point where this wasn't quite doing the trick. If thin was all of this good shit, then why was I still lonely and miserable?

It made me think.

I'm still thinking, and I'm still missing it.

When I was deep in the anorexia or the OCD, I was always busy, always occupied. I was cleaning, washing, adding, subtracting, exercising, baking, obsessing. Now I have this void, into which everything seems to fall. I'm just not used to free time. I don't know what to do with it. I always thought it was something bad because it meant that I was neglecting something else. I couldn't sit still because it brought so much anxiety, these horrific, rippling waves. At least if I was busy, I was doing SOMETHING, and therefore it would all be okay.

Now, unemployed and living at home, I have time on my hands. Lots and lots of time. Granted, I do have a lot of work to prepare for my class and to maintain my jewelry business. I'm going to be upgrading my dad's website for work.**

But still, there are those times, those quiet times, when I invariably look inside.

I don't like that. I see the girl who has this seven year void in her life, a girl who has no one to call and have coffee with, or go to the movies. And it hurts. I'd rather forget this part of my life. I don't mind the forgetting. I do mind the remembering.

But it is what it is. Some of my scars will never go away. I can't escape that. Still I run and do things and keep busy so that all of the other stuff just doesn't matter so much.

*I had a friend in college who objected to me saying "For Christ's Sake!" I didn't want to be normal and everything and say "For Pete's Sake" because it reminded me of a stuffy relative of mine. So now I say, "Oh, for Bob's Sake."
**Since our newspaper at college was so understaffed, I not only wrote and edited my own section (really, just a page), but I did the layout. So I know a thing or two about graphic design. Although I think some of the finer points might be lost on people looking for boxes and bubble wrap. Maybe I could just send them to the website where you can run your mouse arrow over virtual bubble wrap and hear it pop. Great stress reliever.