Paralyzed with Indecision

All over the internet, and all over pinterest, you have these blogs. Pictures. Taglines.

"She travels the world and DOESN'T work! Learn how!"

"How to quit your job and become location independent."

"How to get out of the 9-5 grind."

Here's one, for reference:

And you click, and invariably, someone tells this story about how, 1 year ago, or 5 years ago, or 6 months ago, they quit their job. And then, they in detail describe to you how they now, after that period of radio darkness, have wonderful, life-affirming streams of passive income.

But no one ever, EVER posts about the dark, dark time in between. The time of potatoes, and pasta, and regretting purchasing those movie tickets. The time where a million things fall through, and you have all these harebrained ideas, and none come to fruition. That period? Everyone ignores that. No one wants you to see the anxiety, and the panic, and the questioning.

Because it's not pretty.

It's not a nice tagline.

And you know what? I decided that, even if I'm the only one who ever reads this, I'm going to chronicle that. The last week at the job you hate, where you can barely drag yourself out of bed. The COMPLETE lack of motivation, and total burnout from years of slaving away for employers who don't care if you're actually happy. 

So. Here I go.

This is my last week at work. And It is 12:25 PM right now. And I am still in bed. I did actually do a little work, but now I'm back in bed.

No makeup.

Lank hair. 

Just waiting for this week to expire. So I can get out of this place. 

And I'm completely paralyzed with indecision. What should I invest in? How can I get the most cashflow out of my capital? How does closing work on a house? Should I keep the internet when we move back to our condo for 2 weeks? If not, how will I overthink everything and search for investment properties that I will never call on?

Eventually, it gives me acid reflux. So here I am, in bed. In the past 2 days I have eaten wonderbread and a caramel apple. 

There is something inherently terrifying about an uncertain future.

Maybe, in 6 months, I'll look back on this and smile - how silly. Kind of how I look back on my apprehension at selling our house, and realize it was totally unfounded. But today?

Today is a day for Cream of Wheat and bed. And books.