... and exhaustion!
Somewhere, somewhen, I remember hearing that it isn't the car tire crushing your leg that hurts the worst. It's when they take the car off of you. That's when you're really fucked.
Now that everything is out in the open, now that everyone has been told about my plans for the shamanic future (one went very good, one went very bad) I can breathe.
Such cRuShInG relief!
Summer malaise since the beginning of July. Ro-ro-rotator cuff foolishness. Kirtan wife acting up / acting out. Even the lovely overnight anniversary and Flame Shift, bless 'em, were strains. Is it any wonder I slept until 10am today, then had a nap in the afternoon? Dunmore Throop is scandalized!
Reading about the writing life, and the way of the storyteller, about entropy in the u.k. and the fact that Joanne Rowling knows as much about the tablet and stone as I do, it's been a helluva day, a helluva season, a helluva life.
One of many. Lived at full speed. All at once. All mine.
No comments:
Post a Comment