Sunday, May 22, 2011

Journal 21 The point of it all...

I didn't run today, or do anything particularly active, noble, or noteworthy.
I got impatient (once again I almost wrote "inpatient") at my family.
I wished for some way to change anything (because everyone knows WISHING things would change is the big way to make it all happen).
I ate extra dinner at my family's house, somehow trying to feed something in me.
I drank coffee after 5pm, a true curse.

I am home now, have been for several hours. I've eaten some leftover chicken, cold, from the fridge, because we had dinner early, at my parents, 5pm.
I've taken some phonecalls, I've congratulated one of my dearest friends, via email, on the birth of her daughter this morning.
I've done all these things, and at no time has the tide changed, letting the water ebb away from me. I'm still treading my way through it, employing every single tactic I can think of to help myself cope.
Temperature is important to me, I took a cool shower to calm down.
Wine in a glass is never a bad thing.
Daniel Craig is on the tv, for the third night in a row (it's some sort of glorious Craig film festival).
I ate chocolate cake at my parents for dessert.
I had a cupcake for breakfast with my coffee.
I have a book waiting for me to read it.

See--it's all in place.
But inside, I am seething with anxiety, wishing, wanting, more than anything, for something to pluck me out of this situation, give me some measure of peace, the way a measure of vodka is essential to a martini.

Tell me--what is keeping you awake?

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