The Reliable Source

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Serious Sunday night syndrome compounded with a headache.  It is supposed to start changing – the weather – not the headache, though I’ve done my best to bath and aspirin it to a tolerable level.  Not working on the novel outline, feeling a bit nauseous and definitely overwrought.  Not wanting to spend time on this despite knowing that I need to.  Emails I’ve received that I could easily respond to if I would just make myself do it.   Instead, I cling to the next hour or two before I absolutely must force myself down into the catacombs of Mab.  Strange that it’s such a fight, so fraught with anxiety and nervous energy when all day long I’ve felt logey and distracted.  I’ve even played at napping which is unheard of for me.

Somehow, as I sleep, I have to resolve myself to claim my superpowers in the morning.

So.  Yep.  I have a few mountains to climb.

I am grateful for:  I am grateful for a sister who will spend countless hours designing a christmas tree because I asked.  I am grateful that we all get along well enough to go out to dinner and we don’t fight or browbeat or drag one another down during that dinner.  I am grateful that somewhere on the far distant horizon, I have some sense that this is just my usual behavior, this is not the end of the world, and that we have gotten through worse.  I am grateful that I have people who will come out of the woodwork to help me in whatever way they can.  I am grateful for a world that refuses to deny the grey areas, even if that world is only the gray area of a larger world that doesn’t always accept nuance.  I am grateful for a world that acknowledges that there is no winning in grief, no ranking for loss, no hierarchy for catastrophe.  That we are all people and when the worst strikes us, it strikes all of us regardless of a hashtag campaign or logo.  I am grateful that what I have hasn’t been so cruelly taken from me.  I am grateful that there is still time to learn, to meditate on this, feel more fully and deeply.  I am grateful that if we must have terrible days such as these, they offer lessons of perspective, ego, purpose.

I love: the video dude who makes the videos and is my romantic ideal that I completely acknowledge is nothing more than an idle fancy.  I love idle fancies when they are kind and clever and into creepy shit.  I love the feelings it produces, even if I still have to redirect my energies into my living, actually real life.  I love watching StarTalk (in smallish doses), I love having a pile of materials to read and divert me when I am at my most woeful.

Wouldn’t it be nice if I stopped preplanning the end of the world?  The world is far too ironic to ever let me think of the actual worst thing, anyway.

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