Am determined not to let the day disappear without a diary entry. It’s going to be one of those, I’m afraid.
But what have I done since waking? Lying in bed, feeling utterly awful for the first part. I can feel the sheer anger of my body clock at me – it was just getting used to 7 days of daylight waking, night time sleeping, then I force it back into night shift mode again. And it’s screaming at me. Waking up after a forced delayed sleep isn’t a refreshed feeling at all. It’s a feeling of being more tired than ever, and it’s no use to anyone.
Last night, I was fighting sleep at the workstation – so hard not to drift off then and there, sitting at the computer, surrounded by people. First night of a 7-night shift tends to be like that. But my main response is sheer anger: why is it just ME that can’t seem to cope? (It’s not – I always hear of one or two others). How does everyone else do it? What’s their secret?
(Can I get a sick note from Life? No, I’ve done that. Didn’t make me any happier.)
But then, I’ve felt that about other people all my life. How do other people manage to get things done at all? I have days on end when everything feels piled up and impossible to overcome. And it’s nothing – most others have far more things to worry about than me: partners, live-in relations, children. Even pets. And I think, I can barely cope with taking care of one creature in my life (me), let alone others. Everyone else is a superhero.
Started work on the screenplay. Got some ideas down. But then I hit problems. Lots of ‘argh’ moments. Because it’s had two other people working on it, I keep finding it hard to just plough my own furrow while trying to take in their characters and ideas. AND they want it days ago. And the pressure of knowing people are waiting doesn’t help me focus at all, like it’s meant to – it just makes me upset and unable to think straight. I either send off something that’s not good enough, or I do nothing at all.
The time just leaks away, and I don’t know what to do. It takes me a while to get going, to get in the mood for writing. And just when I feel warmed up, it’s time to go to the night shift. Argh. An ocean of Argh.
My room is starting to get untidy again. Piles of unread, unprocessed stuff piles up in corners. Magazines not read. Things people send me: CDs, DVDs books. ‘Have you read it yet?’ No, no I haven’t. ‘Can I interview you? I’m from another country…’
And I think, why do you want to interview me? I don’t feel particularly worthy right now. Should be an ego-boost, that kind of request. But I just feel… nervous. One more thing to find time for. Oh, poor you, Mr Edwards!
I feel absolutely stewed in my own anxiety today. Stir-fried in angst. Over nothing. It’s so silly.
Still pulling at my eyebrows as furiously as ever. Stop it, stop it, stop it.
And so… Time to go to the night shift. Well, at least it’s an honest entry. I’ll be better.
***
I’m told it probably wasn’t a queen bumblebee I saved yesterday. Queens don’t rely fly. It was more likely to be a very large drone. A bit like this entry.
Tags: anxiety days
