Nutjob.

I've lost the ability to relax. Seriously. When I have a day off (or especially several), all I think about is what I should be doing. And I think it's because the churn of activity (and/or thinking about it) helps numb out the sense of free-floating anxiety that I feel nearly all of the time. Nearly. All. Now when did this start? Oh, the dawn of time. I'm not making any resolutions or setting any goals this year (other than the ones my brain has already churned up). I'm not committing any to paper. I just want, more than anything, to learn contentedness. To be comfortable in my own skin, and at peace more of the time. To do less, spend less, eat less, drink less... and live more. I want freedom from the relentless drive, and in order to have that, I have to find freedom from the relentless, nameless fear and dread. I have no idea how to get there, or what to do first. Maybe that's a good thing.