Tag Archives: Existential crisis

Sacha Black Creations inc… Stage 2

As promised an update on the studio. I still need some carpet, a bar stool and a coffee table, but its getting there. The purple wall with the frame is specifically for my novel… don’t judge my lack of writing and that its empty I have been so busy.

Went back to work this week, after having completed just over 2 weeks of jury service, and some time in Birmingham at uni. Boy was it a shell shock returning to work.

I am in a new department though and its a million percent better. Anyway, short post, as I am brewing up some lengthier ones shortly.

The wife made me the shelves and the desk.

I just painted!!

It’s so nice to have a space thats just mine, I just wish it was complete. The desk is standing height at my request so I can stand and work at it, but definitely didn’t consider the fact that I need to have a stool before I can write at it!

#fail.

Also, I am  wondering if this extremely rash quick decision is something to do with my mid twenties existential crisis…um possibly me thinks… *cough*

Lesbian on Autopilot

Do you ever get that feeling that life is passing you by, and theres nothing you can do to engage or grab hold of it before it disappears?

I like to think of it as ‘autopilot’.

Its not really your friend, but sometimes you need it.

The irony is, hopefully this post written last night is on autopilot and will have posted automatically at some point around lunchtime tomorrow today.

As I have already established I am failing miserably at all aspects of my life at the moment!

I have mush for brains.

Anyone ever seen click? (the film) Essentially, he has a remote  control that controls his hole life and he can fast forward, pause, turn down etc etc parts of his life. He ends up wasting it and fast forwarding through all the goods bits as well as the bad.

I have way too much on. It’s stopping me being a friend, a daughter, a girlfriend, and a person.

Autopilot is also dangerous. I LITERALLY nearly killed my girlfriend last night.

We were trying to clean up the house after a weekend of wedding related shenanigans and for some reason I thought it was a really good idea to put three rolling pins on top of the highest cupboard in the kitchen.

Rolling pins roll.

Clearly didn’t think that one through.

The gf was sat on the floor doing girlfriend like things, and as I reached up to get something from behind the rolling pins I inadvertently knocked the rolling pins off.

With a disengaged brain I was unable to think of the word ‘move’ quick enough to scream it, so I just screamed some nonsensical gibberish word. Luckily enough she moved her head in time and only got her arm bashed.

But seriously what was I thinking?! Or not thinking more to the point.

Today I found myself having driven from one work location to another with literally no idea how I got there. More to the point I realised after I had just come off a roundabout, and I wasn’t even sure if I had looked in the right direction to check to see if anything was coming. I still couldn’t tell you if anything had been coming. Obviously not because I didn’t get hit. But not really the point

I must be on crack. I could have got myself killed!

I seriously need a metaphorical slap in the chops to snap out of autopilot. I might be having an existential crisis, but I sure as hell ain’t suicidal!

I am not sure where autopilot comes from, but I am going to blame mine on

a) the existential crisis

b) wedding brain. I liken this to something akin to baby brain. Clearly never having kids I have no evidence for this, however, I am emotionally unstable, practically senile, on autopilot, and lost any ounce of what little common sense I had.

c) the Molotov cocktail of painkillers (trying to numb the week long headache) and the glass of wine I keep necking when I get in from work.

Speaking of, I think its wine o’clock…

Existentially bored.

Forget mid life crisis, I am having a mid twenty something post university, pre marriage existential crisis.

This blog (and many more in the same vein to come I imagine) were always coming, and in some senses the probably the foundation for why I am writing in the first place.

I am lost.

There I said it.

Once upon a time… I wanted to be an actress, then a psychiatrist, then a psychologist, then a doctor, then an academic, then a Vice Chancellor, then a politician. Then I got lost.

I took so many turns I got lost and tangled up in a big mess of Sacha, then I stopped following my dream.

Now I have forgotten what it was. Literally.

Existential Crisis

I am not asking for sympathy. I don’t need it. I am lucky, I am employed for a start, with the British economic climate in the shit state that it is I should be thankful; and I am. I have food and a roof, a loving partner and two adorable baby substitutes in the form of cats! Thats an awful lot more than most people in the world. So I am not complaining. I am aware that this is a first world problem. But it’s my crisis, and I am working on it!

Beside this feels more like pondering.

Technically I ought to be fortunate and grateful for the position I am in. I am on a pretty prestigious scheme and work towards being a manager over a couple of years, jump several pay packets and get more qualifications.

Thats all great.

But I am STILL bored.

I don’t cope well bored. I turn into one of those really annoying disruptive kids in school that everyone hated despite secretly finding really funny.

annoying, you know you shouldn't laugh, but you just can't help it!

Technically I have a direction. A public sector direction. BORED

I am a hardworking  tortured public sector bureaucrat (PSB).  Theres always lots of work to do. I don’t think anyone is really ever sure what that work is, there seems to be a general vague malaise that follows us PSBs around. Most of the time no one can come up with a real answer as to why they are doing something, or who it is thats going to read their work.

Classic example I spent 3 and a half working days writing a board report. Took the report to board, spent approximately 1.5 minutes in the board room and left again. No one had read the paper and it got passed anyway. Shocking really. But this isn’t a rant about the public sector.

Theres work, lots of it. But its BORING; and this is really my point.

I am not sure how one finds their purpose? I seem to be questioning everything.

(God, I am so middle aged. Aren’t I supposed to be out getting pissed and doing irresponsible things at the weekends and not questioning life?)

Starting with the obvious ‘where do we come from?’ I set myself the challenge of reading, the bible, the Koran, the Torah, and Chariot of the Gods by Erich Von Daniken.

The latter being one of the books describing an alternate history linked to alien visits and one of the books behind the film prometheus.

Anyway, not having a direction fucks you up! It changes everything.

How am I supposed to get up in the morning and ‘do’ life without a serious direction. I am wasting precious minutes and seconds with no core purpose, no challenge, no direction and no goal.

I am BORED.

On the verge of mental anarchy and I pity the person I explode on.

I need a goal.

I am officially sending out an

S.O.S

I need to find a direction. It makes me want to vomit  and punch myself in the face to even say this; because I hate cliches, but, “I need to find myself”

vom.

Anyone with a quick fix will be my new have person! Answers on a postcard. Or alternatively posted below 😛