Then my memory falters and I have to remember things like a normal person, and I get frustrated with myself.
Then I think about my running and how committed I've been lately and I feel happy.
Next I think about how my father cannot run, has no physical strength left, and guilt invades.
I eat mini oreos and drink a coffee and life feels somewhat normal again.
(then I ruminate about WHY my coffee gets cold so fast).
Then I put a framework around it all and nothing feels quite the same.
I read alot of other blogs. It's almost replaced alot of book-reading for me. I read blogs of ordinary people (ok, women) like myself, and wonder, for the most part, at their happiness, their excitement about life. I feel that so sparingly right now, and it is fleeting when I do feel it. I read design blogs, things about my profession, the profession I used to get fired up about, and I feel virtually nothing when looking at the new products, the visuals, the great photos from other parts of the world, where people are also selling kitchens like mad. (alternately, I wonder what they are taking to get them this high all the time. Or are they just THAT fulfilled?)
Is this what a rut is? Or is it just the by-product of life right now? I still get gratitude, I still talk and email to dear friends and love every minute of hearing them, getting feedback from them. I love M. indescribably and feel incredibly lucky, at this stage, as a 'quirky alone' to have found someone who is like me in so many ways.
But I truly feel like I'm on a desert island most days, no other land in sight, just endless water (Does it have to do with the endless rain? maybe. But as I said to my friend A. on the phone last night, the weather grimly matches my mood. Or does my mood match the weather?)