Here I am, practically light–headed & dizzy from tiredness, and I can’t fall asleep because my mind is racing.

I’m so scared of coming off immature that I am afraid to be myself. At least I think that’s what’s eating me. I have this engrained idea of how I am supposed to be conducting myself, when there’s nothing really pressuring that. I feel so frustrated that I still feel helpless reading/responding to social convention.

How do I not take things so literally? Is it blind trust, or naïve understanding? It’s maddening, because for as often as I use sarcasm, I swear I can’t read it. It makes me feel for the people who interact with me, who do have to remind me that they’re only kidding, or they were being facetious. Or they don’t realize I’m continuing on with the sarcasm, and I’m just too dead–pan in response to it.

I really was going to rant about how I’m clearly a grown man, competent, and versed in a whole slew of things that should do anything but portray me as immature. But how the heck is a list of competencies, skills, and complex understandings going to truly convey that? It’s just a reference list of what I’ve learned. It doesn’t illustrate maturity.

Maybe I’ll return to this once I have an answer. It’s just tearing at my mind; I feel torn at this juncture in my life that I’m supposed to be disconnecting myself from the naïve & immature aspects of my graduate career, and transition entirely into a professional career with the postdoc. Well, sure, in my work life.

Maybe that’s my problem: I’m having an issue separating work & personal life right now. Because one does fairly dominate the other, some of it inadvertently while the rest is clearly deliberately. I’m trying to compensate for something. Not just a lack of a personal life right now. The question is: what?

Let me pray that either I figure that out quickly, or that sleep overtakes me if this rant wasn’t sufficient to evacuate the hyperactive mind right now. This really is the problem with living alone & not having anyone to conveniently call: you can’t get a way to air this mental laundry.

Hopefully the rain goes easy tomorrow; I’m going to need a long walk to clear my head, and I’ll have plenty of time to do so while a vat of sauce & meatballs cooks.

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