Tricking Yourself Out of a Funk

I lay in bed for 14 hours last night. It scares me whenever I do this, because even if I did lie in bed for good reason (totally exhausted from softball) it reminds me of a time when the most difficult part of my day was convincing myself to get of bed. I never want to go back there, but sometimes I slip up and just lie there.

These episodes always convince me that man was meant to work, because I feel so wrong about just doing utterly nothing.  It’s still difficult to shake that feeling, though. I’ve thus been in a funk all day.

I have tons of things to be doing: reading about Ebola for group project, reading the Gospel of Matthew for a theology class, reading about memory for Psychology, reading Paradise Lost, studying for a Politics exam, researching for my English term paper, writing letters to my mother and my softball teammates and coaches, cleaning my room, doing laundry. But no motivation. I just want to lie in bed.

I always forget how I get out of these funks. I tried to talk to people today: I talked to an old high school friend, and I sat with the group from last semester for dinner. I even got a very nice compliment from my Politics professor about my last paper for him. But it wasn’t enough. I’m sitting in the library, too antsy to do much of anything.

I love learning. There’s a reason I wanted to go to college. I want to learn to communicate effectively, and I want to be well-read in order that people will take me seriously when I speak and write. Even if I “just want to be” a nurse, I still want to be well-rounded as I can be. I am so lucky I get to go to a truly wonderful school, and I love what I am learning in my classes. But I can’t get myself to put the work into learning right at this second. I must trick myself by saying, “You GET to do this. You are lucky that you GET to write about Locker’s take on property and expound upon the details of the U. S. Constitution.”

And that’s my secret. I trick myself into learning.

Sometimes I just look at the tuition bills, too.

Or eat cookies and listen to “Call Me Maybe”. I have no shame, nor regrets.

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