Waiting for my real life to begin

My enthusiasm about how I could spend my time between now and IVF has dwindled and I find myself restless, bored, lonely and borderline depressed.

Tim is working unbelievable hours (5:30am to 9:30pm) almost daily and then Saturday mornings. (Clearly, his plight is worse than mine, but this is MY blog.)

One of my closest friends who I also work with has been out on medical leave for the past 6 weeks or more. (Also, her situation sucks 10 times worse than mine, but, again MY blog.)

Work has been PAINFULLY slow. Few clients and no groups, which I usually do weekly, for the past month.

As for friends, I have them (and I will stop using this as an excuse soon enough) but my closest friends don't live here anymore. I work with 2 people and I'm not a part of anything outside of work, so there's something of a deficit in opportunities to meet new people. Not to mention, my plan to this point has been making friends with extroverts and then befriending their friends, meaning I never have to do much of the initiation. Being the one who does the reaching out? Yea. Not my forte. And guess who moved out of state? The best extroverts a gal could have.

And, as time goes on, I feel like my brain is getting slower and I'm becoming socially retarded. It's like the loneliness and isolation makes me blurt out my internal monologue whenever someone is present to listen. I've started purging my house because it's clean and so now I guess it must become simplified too, just in case tomorrow is the day we spontaneously decide to pack up and move to Colorado or something.

Plain and simple. I'm losing it. And, if I'm honest, this boredom, this quiet is deafening in its screams about how no 30-something-year-old woman should be bored. Her life should be exhausting between a husband, job and kids. The silence only serves as a reminder of what I am lacking: a husband with only one full time job, children who wear me into the ground and close friends nearby for game nights, laughter, new perspectives and wardrobe vetoes (cause left to my own devices...).

And I find myself haunted by the words of Betty on Mad Men in a mean mother moment to her daughter, "Only boring people are bored." And then, who would want to be friends with a boring person? NO ONE! And so the slippery slope to my demise begins.

I imagine complaining about how I have SO MUCH free time on my hands may feel like the equivalent of 'I have more money than I know what to do with' or 'My boobs are so big that people simply objectify me'. I have tried and continue to try to find meaning in this quiet, boring time, but just can't. Life is just feeling a bit empty at the moment.

Trust me, self-pity and complaining don't come easy to me. I have the perspective to know how lucky I am, in so many ways. But, today, my pity party features me, so you can send presents to my home or office address.

I'm off to go watch J. Edgar... with my mother... on a Friday night. (See?!)

Love you all.

E