Holy Cats. It's been a long, long time since I've updated Stephopolis....
I have a valid excuse for the extensive gap between posts - for half of April and all of May I was stuck in, what can be affectionately termed, "Emo Sweatpants Land". I was too buys embracing the perks of my "enforced employment sabbatical" (ie: daytime television), to think about blogging or any kind of writing that didn't start with the words "To Whom It May Concern - I am SUPER INTERESTED in working for THIS COMPANY in the position of THIS PARTICULAR JOB..."
My ennui was not helped when Adam went up north for work. Being left to my own devices with no outside motivating factors (like a paycheque), meant that I lapsed into the comfortable existence of a hermit. I spent a lot of time talking to my cats, but (thankfully), they never actually answered back.
And time was a funny thing. It seemed to crawl into foreverness and the days blurred together. With the burden of alarm clocks and work weeks no longer in consideration, it was distressingly easy to lose an entire day pouring over dubious job applications until, one blink later, the sun was down and it was evening.
In the grand scheme of things, my period of idleness was only 1.5 months. But it left a burning, lasting impact on me that still ghosts around me, even when I'm hard at work being a productive member of society. Sometime, when I'm focusing on the intricacies of a website page or trying to master the wording of a particularly prickly memo, a small voice will say "You can't do it. You aren't good/smart/capable enough."
And then I crumble a little bit inside.
I'm trying to convince the voice that knows that I can do it - the voice that understands that I am creative and intelligent and respected to speak up louder and drown out that insidious other voice.
Everyone tells me that what I went through was a necessary evil - an important, but ultimately treacherous, rung on that ever important career ladder.
And I understand what they're saying. But it doesn't make the hurt/insecurity/fear/anger disappear. It's still there, but I can only hope that, one day, I'll truly be able to look back at that 5 month period and think about how very far I've come.
Anyway, that was a long, convoluted way of saying that I'm trying to re-enter the world of blogging, because I feel that I lost my voice and it's about time that I find it again.