Time on my hands
The first thing I learned was that I excel at wasting time.
It's been a pretty mixed bag so far. On the plus side, I am getting to the gym more often. Last week was 4 times. Hopefully I'll make three this week (I had to work late at another store across town doing research, so it threw me off schedule). Giving my past history, I'd have to put this in the win column if I can keep it up.
Socially, it's been 50/50. I haven't gotten to see some I want to see, but I've also had a couple of good not-gaming socializations, namely the Mummies last week and having some friends over to watch Gamers and the Shatner Roast tonight (the other thing that threw me off my gym schedule).
Creatively... not so much. I've done a little more bluebooking and in-game work (though to be fair, the "Snakes On a Spaceship" Firefly adventure I ran last night didn't require a *lot* of work), I've started playing with the 3D ship design I started tinkering with, and that's about it.
I'm really hoping to get rolling again on writing. Bluebooking helps as a means to that end, it lets me write little scenes. And I'll never be a real writer like my friend Marik... I don't have the focus to stay on topic long enough to finish a book. But I enjoy it.
The other side effect of all this is that I have too much time to think. I think that was part of the reason why I delved into MMOs... they kept my brain busy. They kept me from dwelling on the fact that it's been 5.5 years since I had a date, or that I'm getting older and sooner or later there will be certain things I can't ignore, or that I really need to have a solid plan for retirement, or ,or or... you get the idea.
I was a little worried I'd get depressed again, but I seem to be staying fairly clinical in my mental state. It's not that I don't ever get sad or a little wistful, I just don't sink into a morass or mope around. I'll get pensive, but not sulky. Heck, I was afraid actually sitting down and writing this would trigger something.
Eh. I'm not sending friends mopey and /or drunken e-mails/texts, moaning about how much it sucks to be me. I'm not writing gloomy poetry (which is good because I suck at poetry). I'm not plotting to end it all (which is good because no one would take my cat). I'm not repressing some huge deluge of misery (though I am pretty good at bottling up stuff... just ask any ex).
Of course, I'm probably not making much sense by this point (and yes, I am sober). But sometimes writing my thoughts helps get them sorted out of the front of my mind, and this is after all a blog, not some Pulitzer winning journal.
Maybe now there will be space in my brain for something fun to write.