Disinterested

Yet another rant on the status quo.

What feels like my biggest problem right now is the apparent system failure involved in setting my moods. I can't seem to get enthusiastic about things for more than an hour at most, and I certainly don't feel happy about things I know there are plenty of reasons to be happy about. Maybe it's pretty revealing when I confess that I get relieved rather than glad?

It may be a good thing, though. Enthusiasm takes energy, and steals attention.
On the other hand, enthusiasm fuels the engine.
And boy that engine needs a boost.
It's possible that it needs a really big rest, - I didn't have that this weekend.

But some examples. A paper got accepted for publication. Do I jump for joy? Nah, I shrug, wonder if I think it was good myself, and file it away for a later date.

Actually, come to think of it, I have been enthusiastic for some things, - for instance yesterday, when some neat results fell into place. And when the email about the job interviews came. And when the email of the interview details came. It just doesn't last very long.
And then I walk down the hill and see the incredible shapes and colors of trees in the middle of fall, when half the leaves remain on the branches and the other half cover the ground as a tapestry or a blanket.

And I am cautiously happy about a date tomorrow. There is that.
I just wish I was more... myself. More through and through, more efficient, more me at my best. Maybe losing this cold and not staying up late reading Nora Roberts novels will help things. Though they can be a source of enthusiasm, at the right time.