One of the symptoms of chronic anxiety is the gnawing feeling that it's time to make a "life decision." The psychological "noise" in the background is not really noise, more like a feeling generated by a slight overabundance of epinephrine.
Coffee will do that too. My big decision is whether or not to literally buy a farm house. It will put a huge dent in my monthly payment, slightly over a third of my gross monthly income. That would mean making a real commitment to my current job.
I would be stuck where I am right now and the current economic situation is just beginning to coast down the other side of the highest roller coaster peak at Wild Ride America.
The farm house is near Edinburg on N. 900 East Road. It's one of many properties I'm looking at. I haven't decided. I still need to talk to a bank about qualifying for a loan.
If I get this place, or one like it, I will be stuck here. The last time I made a decision like this was when I joined the military. I joined because I couldn't find a job, and after I signed the contract and made the commitment, another job opportunity came up that I really wanted. Too bad, four years off-course.
I don't know exactly what I would do with a place like this, but I do know that I would have space enough to do literally anything I wanted. I don't know how close the nearest neighbors are, I only saw the property from Google maps, and the satellite image is way too blurry to tell.
Work issues keep me on the edge of my seat, ready to bolt for the door. My chronic anxiety fills me with so much impatience that I skip details at work that wind up costing me extra time later when I must go back and finish the little details. I get criticized all the time for it. I feel stupid, but then I have an exemplary military record and two college degrees that prove I'm not stupid.
It makes me wonder what details I'm missing right now. Sometimes I'm stuck trying to figure out what I'm forgetting, there's always something I'm forgetting. This cycle becomes panic after a while, almost like a petit mal seizure. I could sit for hours and re-prioritize my to-do list, all the while doing nothing but staring at my computer.
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