Feeling discombobulated

Discombobulated is such a great word. I’m a big fan of great words. Succulent is my absolute favourite word. It’s just so juicy and good, it actually makes my mouth water.

Dictionary

Anyway, discombobulation. That actually isn’t a word (according to my spellcheck). But it’s the state I find myself in at the moment. I’m all at sixes and sevens (stupid saying). Nothing feels quite right.

  • Work isn’t quite right. I feel like I’m failing. Or not excelling. And I don’t know what to do about it. I lack enthusiasm and feel a little bit overwhelmed. I can’t keep playing the new girl card because I’ve been here for 9 months now. But I feel like I’ve lost my creativity and vision. Gone backwards somehow. Not in terms of my job but in terms of my approach. It’s hard to explain.
  • My approach to life isn’t quite right. I have lots of good intentions around eating, cutting down on booze, living more virtuously. But none of them are coming to fruition. I’m struggling to break out of the eat, drink and be merry frame of mind.
  • I’m totally overwhelmed by the mammoth amount of stuff that I own. And how to whittle it down so I can live in the space I have without having a floor-drobe. I’ve had the intention of downsizing my personal belongings for so long now that it’s not even funny. Last year I thought I’d turned a corner with clearing out and Marie Kondo’s¬†approach of “if you don’t love it, get rid of it”. I even blogged about it in an epiphany of “this will change my life”.¬†But I still find myself with bags of stuff to ebay just in case it has some value. And things that I won’t part with just in case. It’s maddening!
  • Death. David Bowie’s death has affected me way more than I thought it would. I’m not a David Bowie fan, as such. I mean I like him and respect him and enjoy a lot of his music. But somehow him dying is really playing on my mind. Everything is changing. Constants that have been there since my youth are changing. Cancer is fucking scary. It killed David Bowie and it killed Lemmy. My Dad has inoperable cancer. It’s too much to comprehend.

I know that all these things are just life. And people deal with all sorts of headfucks every single day. Maybe it’s the combined January effect. Maybe it’s Christmas withdrawals. Maybe I’m just feeling a bit screwy.

But discombobulated sounds better. So I’m going with that.