Samsara

I feel like I'm stuck in a samsaric cycle, living the same general series of events over and over again. Every job I take is a temporary job, destined to end after a few weeks or months, just as every relationship I begin is a temporary relationship, similarly destined to end after a few weeks or months. After a lively Saturday night on the town, from dinner at Parc, to drinks at Oscar's, Continental Midtown, then down to Old City for drinks at Cuba Libre and Bleu Martini, the rest of my weekend was spent mostly in bed or on the couch, in a frozen stupor, not wanting to get up or get out because to do so would require energy that wouldn't change things anyway. It was a minor period of depression, of course, which looked at objectively is pretty silly, but it happened nonetheless. Oh well, knowing myself, I know that the stable framework and forced interaction of work is a good thing, and I look forward to that tomorrow. I try to step back from my situation, and I remind myself that my life is much better than it was when I was in law school; at least now I have an income and decent savings to fall back on if necessary. For whatever its evils, it's nice to have at least enough money to happily blow-off on a weekend night, and not feel too guilty about it. I'm also pleased with the fact that my evenings and weekends are free from bullshit homework and the resulting anxiety from not feeling sure if I remembered anything of what I just read and thus feeling exposed to potential embarassment in class. So yeah, life is not too bad now compared to my three years of law school. But life is more than avoiding embarassment or having a few bucks to blow. And so I'm back where I begin my thoughts: with the eerie feeling of living in a samsaric cycle, wondering when it will end. I have faith that I made the right decisions when it came to past relationships and, for the most part, I have generally steady faith that things will develop naturally. But on a weekend like this one, where my physical hangover and psychological malaise that resulted from a very drunken Saturday night prevented me, or at least discouraged me, from going out, and thus cubbyholed me in my overly self-reflective thoughts, my faith seemed to waver enough for me to notice and feel a little worried. But hey, what can I do? At least I wrote about it to get it off my chest. After an unproductive Labor Day, I'm ironically looking forward to getting back to work tomorrow, with hopes that this project will be rolled-over into another one.