The last days, say up to a week or so, have been hectic, emotional, and tiresome.

Work is stressful because I can’t devote enough time to it to meet expectations and promises. Uni gets pushed further and further back on the shelf of things to do next, and sleep is gathering dust even further back in a dim cobwebby corner.

Still I must go about my day to day existence, meeting all the requirements I impose on myself. But for what? I find that I’m not deriving an inherent reward worth this much – surely there is more enjoyment to be had from each day. Indeed, if life is short and days are numbered, I had better be doing it for the right reason. So then I ask myself, “Self, what is it that drives you?”

First with surprise, and then with resignation, my answer is Duty.

Duty – the one thing which is stands apart from the rest. The primary reason I bother to rise every morning. I feel duty bound to achieve, to excel, to exceed. It is a duty to self, yes, but I feel it directed also to God, family and friends. Funny how this duty seems to take prominence above all other possible motivation. How I wish it was anything else: growth, passion, love, excitement, opportunity, faith.

I wonder now if there isn’t a better way to do all of this. Of particular note is the fact that busyness can always be manageable until it becomes overwork, after which point the sun wanes, espresso is bland uninteresting sludge and jazz is a mountain of skill I’ll never acquire.

Naturally this doesn’t fit my worldview – I’m an optimist, darn it, and I will be optimistic. But a schoolyard bully of an idea creeps up and tries to pick a fight: what if my optimistic cheer is my mask? Is it a healthy self-leadership example so as not to burden others with more grey pessimism, or a façade closing people out and guarding them from the melancholy in me?

Optimism in the face of the mundane, of duty and overwork. This is my struggle.