Positive Tuesday.

My therapist's moved her practice since last week; she's now in a corner office on the 24th floor of her new building. We both agreed the view is spectacular, but the old neighborhood was a lot more vibrant in terms of its residents and business offerings. I'd gotten to know her old neighborhood about as well as my own, and I liked it more, to boot. But her new one's easier for me to get to, so it's a reasonable trade-off.

Wherever she is, I'm glad to see her. It's good for me to talk to someone in person about things which are bothering me - coordinating activities and time and the general messiness of life, for one. Hunting for a full-time job while working part-time and also trying to pursue my writing and maintain enough stability in the areas of things like laundry and groceries is keeping me busy, but not busy enough I don't find time to worry about being unable to coordinate everything if I had a full-time job. Even as I remind myself I wouldn't be looking for work, it still gets to me. I look to manage and control my environment and time, and hold myself accountable for not doing it well. When I went to the Bastille Day festivities on Sunday, afterward I felt hugely disappointed in myself for wasting two hours I should've used to get chores done, when I instead pushed them off and would be throwing my sleep schedule for a loop. Talking to my therapist reminded me I don't need to beat myself up over these things. The transition period of learning to manage new responsibilities is always a stressful one. As I get back into writing cover letters, I'll get used to it again - hopefully my writing will come back, too.

I talked about the inability to connect with people at work, which is partly why my sleep's been so minimal of late: having conversations with people online makes up for not having them in person. Not that I wouldn't love to talk about the perils of monoculture in person, but online works pretty well too. Even if it means I'm operating on five to six-and-a-half hours' sleep several days of the week.

We ended talking about my writing, and how I want to keep it going, and my depressing lack of a visual imagination. I think if I wasn't going to a therapist, I'd write more, just to find a way to deal with my emotions and daily turmoils. As I do, I still write, but with more discussion involved.