restless

Restlessness took over me yesterday. Somehow, when I talk things through with Ryan I come up with some pretty deep, inner thoughts. The other day during walk, we were talking about life after graduation. There’s this feeling of having nothing to do, no real goals (again with the transition period of where to go next?) School occupied about 80% of my brain for 17 longs years and since it’s no longer a factor I have yet to figure out what to do with all that brain power.
I feel somewhat “busy”, as in I do the laundry, attempt to keep the apartment clean, help with the dishes and go to work. I have a minimal social life and piano lessons each week. Yesterday I came home to an empty apartment, with nothing planned but a 1 hour piano lesson. I ate an entire pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream (after having such a healthy eating day at work). My body/conscience was so angry with me for doing it that I couldn’t get up the appetite for any sort of real dinner. I was so distracted by my work day, the ice cream weakness and the current mess in the apartment that I couldn’t focus on the lesson. As I screwed up the notes more and more, I become increasingly nervous and the more nervous I became, the worse I played. What happened? I love playing the piano and love learning to play, so why can’t I actually play anything with feeling? I am stuck on the same 2 songs and am wading through the adult course, but for some reason my fingers have no passion to them.
After the lesson, I laid around the apartment feeling somewhat useless. Flipping channels has lost its luster, scrapbooking seemed blah. I was bored. In an effort to counteract the ice cream disaster, the treadmill seemed a good idea. Again, the motivation/inspiration was lacking. My usual stamina was shot because of the stabbing guilt of my poor atrophied muscles and disgusting diet habits.
By the end of the night, since I had really done nothing that took any energy out of me, I was absolutely restless. I tossed and turned, stealing whatever moments of sleep I could. By the time Ryan came home and we went to bed, I was physically unable to get comfortable. I had no coherent thoughts or concerns going through my head, except “why is my brain so bored?”
Now at work irritability has taken over and motivation is somewhere in the 8 hours of sleep that I didn’t get to enjoy. I need something more in my life, something fun and exciting. Something new. It’s torturous to think of moving away because it isn’t happening for another 8 months.