...and you know what that means. i slept for about an hour and a half last night, went to an interview, had a nice hour-long chat with the director of finance, ran some metrics for him, and chopped it up about tax laws in china versus the states. it was fun.
and now i'm watching endless episodes of grey's anatomy, waiting for sleep to hit so i can be worth a shit when we go out tonight. there are better ways to spend this time, had i slept. i could go to yoga. i could volunteer somewhere that needs non mandarin-speaking volunteers that can't tell her right from her left when barking at taxi drivers early in the morning, i could do something useful. but instead, i sit here, absorbed by fictional drama.
last night, despite needing sleep so that i could ostensibly rock mr. financial director's interview boat this morning, i lay awake, listening to snoring, wondering about what i will do if and when i return to work. as restless as i have been, as worried about money as i always am, thinking about going back to work stirs up anxiety. i'm afraid i'm going to look up one morning, riding on the metro next to someone with chernoble breath, or in a taxi stuck in traffic on a hot sticky day, and just want out again. what happens then?
i can hear you thinking. you just suck it up, right? no one wants to do the every day, they just do. people don't just quit their jobs and run to another country, hide from ex boyfriends or responsibility or the yoke of the mundaneness. people who do that are so very lucky to have the support systems or the money or both to indulge their compulsions. so i guess i'm a lucky, ungrateful, chickenshit princess-y type.
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