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I'm supposed to be in class right now but i'm not. Last night i passed out at midnight (yay new meds) and although i have 4 different alarms set at 10-15 minute intervals from 7:30 i slept past 10:30. J had already left for work. I vaguely remember her saying to get up. I remember saying i'd get up and eat breakfast with her, then i remember saying i'd get up to see her off, then i remember waking up and looking at my phone, realizing this was going to be my last chance to make it to the noon class and finally getting up for real. I wrote my pages. It was almost 11. I showered. I made oatmeal. I drank water to hydrate myself. And then it was almost noon and i still hadn't left the house.

Fuck it. I've done a grand total of 6 hours billable work this week. I've spent about 8 hours training. 8 hours moving weight equipment (volunteer work). A bit over an hour on my dumbek. That sure as hell doesn't add up to 40 hours. Oh, and for about 4 hours i was at various doctors and stuff. My whole week is made up of these little 2 or 3 hour goals i set myself plus the 4 or 5 hours it takes me to fucking psyche myself up to do them. It's getting ridiculous. I'm spending more time trying to get motivated, trying to get my emotional shit together, than i am spending actually doing the thing. The stupid part is that the whole reason i'm setting myself these goals is so i don't sit around moping and being depressed, but now i'm getting frustrated that i'm not meeting the goals, which is depressing in itself.

You know i always tell myself it's okay for other people to not have to work because they're dealing with this or that, but that's not okay for me, no sirree. If i'm not putting in my 40 hours i'm a failure. I went through this exact thought pattern about a year ago when i was attempting to telecommute for my old boss. When i realized i couldn't put in the time i wanted to i just pulled out and said i wasn't able to do it at all. At the time i could afford to, but that's not an option any more. I am literally living off my mom's charity right now. The last two months i've barely earned enough to make rent and bills, much less pay for my medical expenses which are now edging up to $800 per month. If i'm not working at least 10 hours a week i am fucked. And i can't even seem to do that.

What's wrong with me? I feel like i'm lazy, like i'm just slacking off. Everyone else can do it. Hell, for 10 years i did it. Not that i was particularly happy or healthy for most of those 10 years, but at least i did it. What makes now different? A few months ago i thought it was that i was really finding myself, changing my focus in life to work on things that truly made me happy... and now? Now i just feel like i'm wasting it doing nothing.
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