#2520F

I can’t think clearly when there is a footbal game going in the background in Hungarian. I’m at work again, another evening spent in a small broadcast technician’s booth.
I had many things on my mind today, but the most important was the following realization:

My mind needs a job where someone hands me clearly defined tasks that I am competent in executing. On the other hand my ego still clings to some ambition for doing something that matters, something to leave a mark, something that’s creative and important. I still cling to the idea that having a regular job is just a temporary way to make money and bide my time while I work on building myself up as a Great Photographer. I feel like I am supposed to be working on projects and publicity and building up my potential to rely on my art somewhere down the line. This makes it impossible to relax, to feel contented. I get after a full day at my job and an evening shift at my second job and I don’t feel like I’ve done enough. Any day I don’t spend working on my photography or at least worrying about it feels wasted.

In reality I bet if I could accept that having a stable job and making money is enough, and that art should be for having fun and recharging, I would be happier. I would feel better about myself if I could get rid of the irrational feeling that I’m always supposed to be doing more, striving for greatness. So many people are able to do this, to have a job that pays the bills and be happy with that and have calm, free mind space for making art when they have the time and feel like it. I wish I was one of those people.

During most workdays I don’t have much time to myself. I’ve always needed some alone time, although maybe it’s not very unique to me. A good day is when I have done work for money, spent quality time with my girlfriend and have had an hour completely to myself. I edit photos, journal, or go down a rabbit hole of random research.
Recently I haven’t had good days like this, at least not much. Work comes first and whenever I can, I’ll at least cook dinner and talk for an hour with J. But most days, after this, I don’t have much more time left before I need to be in bed.
So I steal time. I try to steal time at work, and I try to steal time in the evening, from tomorrow. I stretch out the time from the evening walk with the dog to getting in bed. But I feel guilty, because I know I’ll be underslept tomorrow, so I don’t relax and don’t feel good about this time. Instead I obsess or I scroll.
On days like these I don’t really feel like myself, I don’t really feel like an individual person. I need that comfortable hour of me-time to feel like an individual me, and not just an automaton on rails. I don’t know how best to do it, but I need to find a good, safe place in my routine for the hour for me.

Well, anyways.