Ennui

I miss living in a strikingly beautiful place.

I miss creating tangible things.

I miss liking to exercise.

I miss exploring new places.

I miss doing something outside and active during the day, then vegging on the couch in front of the TV or with a book at night, seemingly justified in my laziness.

I miss components of my former life that I truly haven't missed in several years.

I think I'm bored.

"Ennui," my dad calls it.

en·nui (änˈwē/)

noun

noun: ennui

1. a feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of occupation or excitement.

   synonyms:

   boredom, tedium, listlessness, lethargy, lassitude, languor, weariness, enervation;

There's nothing wrong. I love my husband, I adore our daughter, we had a fun Summer of Doing together, I like my job, my house, I have great friends, the grandparents are helpful.

There's nothing wrong.

Yet I'm simultaneously filled with restless energy, and totally unmotivated.

I want to write, but I have nothing to say.

I want to craft, but don't know where to start.

The house needs to be cleaned, but I only notice - and care - when it's time to get the Bean ready for bed in the evening.

I'm tired when I go to bed and tired when I wake up. I set my alarm for 5:45 a.m. every morning with the intention of exercising. It's happened only once this week.

And it's not even Fall yet. The days are still long-ish, and it's been (mostly) sunny.

I have nothing to blame but myself.

And I think that might be part of the problem.

I have a case of the Mondays, but it's already Thursday.

Cue the orchestra, featuring the tiniest of violins.

But at least I have Hank Moody.