This week has been the kind that has put me through a metaphorical wringer, on repeat, and I’m frankly really glad it’s over. There’s something about this sludgy midwinter period every year that makes me want to be a hermit. Bears got it right, hibernating. Weirdly, when I’m not channeling my inner Miss Havisham, I want to do wild, irrational things to bust out of this rut. Write a book. Quit my job and travel the world. Hitch my star to some other wagon.

I vacillate wildly between being excruciatingly bored by my job and having days that make me want to silently cry with stress and frustration. On Tuesday, I went the entire day without more than five minutes of conversation. Headphones in, a steady flow of slow, mundane, mindless work. Great for my knowledge of current music, terrible for my data usage (sorry Dad). Wednesday, on the flip side, was the kind of day where I caught myself mumbling “ohmygodohmygodohmygod WHAT DID I DO!?” under my breath on more than one occasion, trying to fix a poorly-articulated issue for someone without even really knowing what the issue was. I inadvertently made it worse…twice…before finally finding my inner cool-as-a-cucumber problem-solver self and figuring it out, but the day left me tapped out in every way. 

Bottom line, I felt a little stuck at various points this week. Sometimes it seems like my world has gotten so incredibly small…my (admittedly spacious) cube at work, my apartment, my car. These spaces defined my January, and it felt like such a humdrum existence after the excitement and travel and hectic adventuresome fall and holiday season I had. I’ve been a little bit antisocial and a little bit lonely, and sometimes I don’t even know which I’m being and when.

I’m constantly thinking ahead…the next trip, the next friend to come to town, the next apartment. Even the next job, lately. Recruiters have been reaching out with some intriguing propositions (Chicago? Phoenix? Dallas? Baltimore?) and I am, for the first time in a long time, actually finding my interest piqued. Maybe the way my life feels small is making me want to do something big…to try a new place, new people, new job, new world, and see if in that world I find a whole new Lizzie. Who knows? Half this angst is simply midwinter, and the fact that I’m ready for something, anything, to happen.

Here’s to February and all the happiness it inevitably holds. BYE JANUARY.