There's entirely too much working going on here as of late. Between the hubby's twelve-hour overnights and my two jobs (so glad I can say two, though, instead of three), it seems like neither of us is ever home. Or when one is, the other isn't. I don't know how to do anything these days besides sleep and work, and maybe eat something here and there. Even get-togethers with friends are overshadowed and seem harder to enjoy. My diet lately consists mostly of coffee and convenience food. I don't even cook for myself anymore. Realistically, I could be fixing a healthy meal when I'm by myself, and hubby could have delicious leftovers to look forward to the next day, but I'm lazy. I'll periodically get inspired on the rare occasion when we're off together, but since I work mostly closing shifts, and am off only one day a week, he does the majority of the cooking. And when he's not home, I eat badly. We did get a juicer for Christmas and have been trying to enrich our diets with much needed plant material, but produce is expensive. Even more so when you're juicing because you use it all within a couple days.
I had hoped this year would be off to a better start, but I guess I should get used to the fact that the older I get, the more bad news I'm going to receive. I've already attended one funeral this month. Then there was the news about my sister's cancer returning, and how if further treatment is unsuccessful, she's expected to only live about two more years. Hubby told me recently that I can be so depressing that even he doesn't want to get out of bed. I wish he understood how hard it is to stay positive in the midst of all this. I can't imagine what my parents are feeling right now. When I was diagnosed with cancer nearly four years ago, it was the first time I'd ever seen my dad cry. To have another of their children diagnosed with cancer within a couple years is too much. I'd be numb by now if it were me. This is partly why I don't think I want to bring children of my own into the world; I don't think I could handle it if something happened to them.
Of course, I worry about how what I'm doing or not doing is affecting my health. I made the switch over to natural personal care and cleaning products after my cancer experience, and while that's all well and good, it's only a piece of the puzzle. Ever since I started working again about two years ago, I've been to the gym maybe twice. And as mentioned above, my diet hasn't been the greatest for a long time. Sure, I got a complimentary membership when I started work at the park district last year, but that's easy to take for granted. And I don't like returning to a place I work when I'm not working, because, well...thoughts of it are tied to work stuff, and so that's what I think about when I'm there. And of course, all I hear from my coworkers when I'm there to work out is, 'Wow, you must really like it here if you come here even when you're off work!' I've been trying to force myself to go, but that's hard to do when all you want to do on your downtime is rest so you can be ready for the next workday. When I was unemployed, I had time to focus on those things, develop healthy habits. My time (at least when I was alone) was more or less my own. I miss that. But there was also a lot of resentment around the fact that I didn't work, and feelings of uselessness on my part because I felt more like a parasite than a partner. At least now I'm contributing something, however little. But work is nothing but a distraction. I was talking to a trusted coworker the other day about how I've considered all the jobs I've ever had a paycheck, and nothing else. It's hard to be passionate about part-time jobs that provide nothing in the way of personal fulfillment. I'm discovering I'm not career-oriented. Kudos to the people who live this way, but I have no interest in picking one thing and doing it for the rest of my life. I have a hard enough time picking something off the menu at a restaurant. I'm passionate about too many things, and that list is ever-growing and expanding. I don't think I'd ever be able to settle on one. Call me 'flighty'--I don't care.
I have yet to take our Christmas tree down, maybe because it's a reminder of brighter times, of days we can never get back.