Am I even ME anymore?

Last night I knitted away for several hours while watching TV with David.  We've really gotten into a show called Downton Abbey (I highly recommend it).  When we had watched the final episode and talked a good bit, David wanted to do some reading for a few minutes before tucking into bed.  He said, "do you want to read?"  And I said (kind of defensively if the truth be told), "Nope, I want to knit."  And David said, "Why not?"  And I replied, "Because I apparently don't like to do anything that I used to."

I'm worried.

Very worried.

I'm not me anymore.  I LOVE to read, but I haven't opened a book in several several weeks and I don't even care.  I'm in the beginning of one of my favorite author's books.  Her newest one.  The one I couldn't WAIT until it came out.  And I can't motivate myself to open the covers (or literally turn on the Kindle).  I don't want to read anything.  All I want to do is sit in front of the TV and watch shows.  And strangely I don't care if I've seen it before just a few hours ago.

This is definitely not the me I've always known.

While I've given up other hobbies (Cross stitching, needlepoint, quilting), I've come back to them in my own time.  Maybe not with the original fervor, but definitely interested.  I know I'm most likely going through the post-dissertation haze, but I don't like not being me.  It's terribly interupted my rhythm and sense of self.

But, on the other hand, I do love knitting and it's been very fun getting started on my new project.  Shown here.  So, I'll embrace the new me the best I can and wave at the old me who is sitting on the opposite shore and hope that at some point someone sends a rescue plane to bring her back because I truly do miss her...