It has been an anxious week.
There’s nothing bad happening. I just am overcome–as frequently happens, particularly when my mind isn’t occupied with school and three jobs–with a creeping sense of existential dread. I blame my impending move to a new apartment. It’s the first time I’ve been in non-campus housing, and the idea that I might actually have to set up my utilities is causing me to stare feebly, sadly into space.
It’s not that I can’t do it. I am aware that, objectively, calling Georgia power is Not That Hard. It’s just that sometimes things seem to be a Bit Much on the adulthood front, and then I stick my head in the sand and spend another six hours looking at dog photos. As you do.
But eventually I run out of adoptable, house-trained, under-40-pound dogs to look at on the internet. And then I revert to my secondary, far less healthy coping mechanism.
My name is Emily, and I am freaking myself out by searching on LinkedIn.