A Sea of Calm is Not So Calm For Me

Well, I’ve done it: I’ve moved to Ottawa. And that’s really all I have to say about that because right now I’m in this place of calm that I really don’t care for. Not calm, as in I feel calm, but calm as in being smack dab in the middle of stillness; of not moving; of stagnant, stifling serenity. I’m simply… waiting, and I hate waiting. What am I waiting for? I’m waiting for life to begin again and that means waiting for school to start. I mean, it’s true that I’ve been doing things and seeing people almost from the moment I got here, but I don’t feel like I’ve done anything yet and that’s what’s bothering me. I know, I know, I’ve only been here 4 days, but knowing that doesn’t change the fact that I feel stuck.

Yes, stuck is the word I’m going to stick with right now, the epitome of feeling like you’re wading through peanut butter. No, even the term ‘wading’ is far too mobile. More like… standing stoically. The thing about standing stoically in peanut butter is that on the outside you seem perfectly okay, calm, serene, and though people may notice you’re in peanut butter, you yourself look fine, so they shrug and move on. However, on the inside you’re screaming, wanting to move, to stop being a statue, to break those frozen limbs because even if your arms are broken, at least they’d be swaying. Alas, it’s your own, damn fault the stoic statue is you and that you fell in the peanut butter in the first place because you saw the sign, the one that says, “Caution: Peanut Butter Straight Ahead.” Or maybe people keep saying you saw it and you start to believe that they’re right even though you’re sure you don’t know how you ended up here in the first place.

Yes, I’ve decided to be a sad, cynical girl this evening, mostly because I’m not tired yet and need to do something, anything to feel like I’m getting something done. Of course, I’m not doing anything productive at all like working on my résumé or writing my book or practising for my audition (although I have been doing a lot of that) or embroidering or stretching or doing the dishes. Nope, all that is far too much work, so I just spiral further and further down the snake tail, winding up at number 4 when I was at 52 previously.

I will say one thing: I’m loving my imagery right now.

That is all.




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