The rambly fifteen, #7.
Fifteen minutes straight writing…begin…right…now.
Monday night football. Or maybe not if the power keeps going out at Candlestick.
Not to say there isn’t any crying, not to say there aren’t any sad days, but I’m doing markably better than most years considering the time of year. It must be the promise of spending Christmas with family, it must be knowing that things are getting settled, it must be the plans I’m making to be closer to family sooner rather than later, it must be all the sleep I’m getting.
Be careful what you wish for. Sometimes when you’ve had months of insomnia, you suddenly get hit with the ability to sleep well in long stretches. So much so that you can barely wake up to the alarm. So much so that you go to bed before 9pm most evenings, even on weekends. This is reality for two weeks.
Be careful what you wish for. Sometimes when you’ve been less than busy at work, you suddenly get slammed with a ton of stuff to do with no end in sight. So much so that you worry just a little about being away for a few days, even though you know you need that time with family.
So much so that you are finally sleeping well (too well) after so many months of struggling.
So much so that you can’t get stuff in order in your personal life because it’s all work and sleep. So much that the only time you write is once or twice a week instead of nearly every day.
And yet, there is little feeling of being overwhelmed. A little frantic, a little frustration, but this must be what “normal” minds feel like under stress. What it feels like to be busy under stress, BUT with enough sleep and enough self-care that sheer panic and anxiety don’t happen.
Or maybe I’m just getting older, wiser, and more willing to care about the big things instead of the small stuff.