The Hawthorne Effect

So after working about 25.5 hours over the last two days I'm EXHAUSTED, but I'm also a few hundred dollars wealthier so I'll keep the complaints to a minimum. My feet are in an indescribable amount of pain but I'm slowly starting to regain feeling in them now that the shoes are off. I need to seriously consider investing in some nice insoles so I can be 'gellin' too, rather than feeling like I just climbed some rugged terrain.

As I said though, I can't complain too much. I made some mad money AND have at least the next 3 days off since I'm already at 38 hours for the week. Should be playin' some soccer for the next three evenings with the chili's folk and friends, which is always exciting (or entertaining for me at the very least). Tuesday especially should be a pretty good turnout as long as most of the people show up.

Keeping myself busy and with things to do and look forward to really helps cure my self-inflicted disease. Which right now has crept behind my eyes and into the back of my head as if it is trying to eat myself from the inside out. I need something new, something bold, something incredibly different and out of the ordinary to take me away from this personal hell I've created here. I believe that I've done quite a good job of filling my time with work and social activities that have allowed me to support myself (quite comfortably) and meet lots of great friends. Yet still, when the time comes that I'm not working, drowning my sorrows, playing sports or partying it up.... I feel empty. Like a callous void takes over and has full control of my brain and soul (if such a thing exists) causing my mind to wander uncontrollably and miss things I'd long since forgotten.

I just need something, maybe a hobby or even homework. Something that I can do for a purpose. To better myself or someone around me in some way. Something that I can look forward to letting eat up all my time. That can exhaust this extra 'energy' that I can't seem to get rid of. I envy those people who can come home from a long/hard day's work and want nothing more than a home cooked meal and sleep. I come home from a 12+ hour day (of HARD work, trust me) after not sleeping for more than 5 hours tops the night before, yet still my mind races and begs for something to do.

Is substance abuse really the only way to keep my mind from longing for something more? Is there some other way to keep myself happy without wanting to do what I know is self-destructive? I've chosen a path that I believed would bring peace and harmony to my chaotic world, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe all along I know full well that I'm making the wrong choice(s) and just find (not so) clever ways of justifying said choice(s). But why? Why do I feel the need to trick myself into believing a hollow justification? I always try to express that I don't REALLY care what others think of me, because truth be told: I don't. I do believe, however, that I've started to figure out the 'method to the madness' of my own mind. The 'why', the 'reason' for doing whatever it is I do at whatever point in which it occurs. Further investigation is of course necessary and will commence from this point on, however, I do fear a systematic bias.