I am...tired.
There's not much creativity flowing through my brain, mostly it has been about getting the weekend. I have a to do list the size of a...something rather massive. (See, I can't even think of a brilliant simile. Literary fail). Actually, the to do list thing is a bit of a misnomer. It's more a list of things I should put on a to do list, in my head, in hopes that this weekend I will find a few moments of energy and productivity and do something besides read memoirs and watch Netflix movies.
Not to mention, I keep vainly hoping, I'll somehow get relieved of work. Not that I'm currently doing much, just that I could use a nap and a shower and my beloved futon.
Everything is still very odd. I find moments of harmony, though, tucked all through out the doubt and fear and insecurities. The questions, be them as they may, sometimes have me tensing my shoulders and fighting back tears, but the moments when I stop. When I uncurl my toes and unclench my fists and join hands with the suffering (sometimes the suffering is myself - and often that takes form in prayers) I can settle into a peace and I think, "Oh I've got this."
"One does not discover new lands without constenting to lose sight of the shores for a very long time."
- Andre Gide
Bring it on, big girl world.
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