I Can Feel No Sense of Measure
Entry 1 11:00 a.m. Malaise . The grass is long. The grass has never been this long. But I don't cut it. I am not meeting simple tasks. I can care for Jenny and the kids. I can care for the puppy, its almost primal caring for another. I am writing it down here, but I don't want to talk about it, won't raise it as an issue. I may raise it with my therapist, I may not. There comes a point in life where, assessing progress--weighing your contribution--you can look at the scales and see whether you have been a net addition to fixing the human condition, a net negative, or a blank. Given the nature of the universe, this is just a vanity of life, with absolutely no meaning except for the living. This idea should give me peace, given I feel stuck and dissatisfied professionally and personally, with no light at the end of the tunnel. It doesn't. This creeping malaise feels more like being absorbed by The Blob at this...