My Long Lost Companion...a good book

I recently quit my second job. Way back in early October I was searching, frantically, for a job. I was pumping out resumes left and right. My persistence paid off, as it often does I suppose. Within the space of a week, I got not one, but two jobs. Trust me, yes do. I'm not gloating; it soon turned into a nightmare. I went from shedding the boredom-filled tears of the unemployed to busy, busy. I left my apartment at 8:30 in the morning often not to return until 9 p.m - exhausted, irritable, and unhappy. Apart from the long hours my second job took up way too much of my mental time. I couldn't stop thinking about it, obsessing really, living in fear over the weekend that I'd get a call from an irate, demanding boss. Sometimes I did. My heart would quicken with nerves as I saw the name pop up on my cellphone.

I was so despondent, so stressed. It was no way to live. After much - very much - trepidation, I quit.

After the nix of my evening job, I felt sure my quality of life would nearly instantly improve. I imagined I would spend my weeknights reading, peacefully -- the likes of which I hadn't done in, well, years. A month later, I haven't spent more than a few minutes reading during any evening. Why is that? Have I forgotten how to relax with a good book as my trusty companion? Some nights I go to yoga after work, and a couple times I've gone to a free movie screening. Other nights I have a suds-filled outing to the laundry-mat or chat on the phone for an hour. I'm coming to the slow realization, however, that  doing these things aren't something to be disappointed about because I think I'm not pursuing my true interest. It's just living. The trick is, I suppose, to find a balance between living by going through the motions and living in a way that pleases yourself.

Oh, what a riddle do I find this thing called life.