It was a tough week for me, guys. Which is a new feeling, because I got work done, and that’s usually all I need.
I really did power through, and I know logically that I truly got some solid work in, but it was just a tough week. Depressed. Anxious. A few highs, but mostly lows.
Sigh…
At least it’s not affecting my work output, or, judging from the feedback I got on my Netflix stuff, the quality of what I’m doing. But, I was articulating this to Liz last night: I’m missing the joy. I’m not thriving. Not right now. And that…sucks.
It doesn’t feel like burnout. I haven’t put too much on my plate. I have enough time every day to do what I’ve scheduled, and I’ve been very good lately about not putting expectations too high…
…but the effect on my mood is that same as burnout. I just feel so low. Uninspired. Unsure.
It’s really the “unsure” that’s the hardest. I’ve lost perspective on what’s good and what’s not good.
I’m stopping there. I have so much more to say on how this week was hard, but I think I got my point across. Future Ira can come back to this entry and remember how he was feeling, I think.
It’s time for sleep, and time to have the weekend off. I’ve actually earned it. It was my first week in several weeks where I actually sat down and wrote for two hours every day AND got 8 hours in at Netflix each day.
That rocks.
Night.