I’m so tired. So weary. An ache settled into my bones, making me feel stiff & heavy. My to-do list is scattered now on three sheets of paper, full of scribbles & phone numbers & codes & doodles. A document spread in front of me, mocked up to be re-written for a specific case. & sandwich growing cold at the side of my desk because a client interrupts lunch. I pencil in yet another appointment on my already-full Thursday schedule.
Everything about this day feels heavy & overwhelming & out of reach.
I have nothing left.
I need the hug of a good friend. A cup of coffee in a pair of jeans & boots, curled up in a chair. I yearn to be discussing & growing with women that share my own excitement over written word & the outpouring of emotions. I need a day to sit in a stream of sunshine while playing trucks with my little boy, fixing him a grilled cheese, & listening for him to wake up from a nap. I long for stillness that will settle peacefully, rather than stillness that seems fleeting & a cheap escape.
I feel that I have nothing left.
But I know that’s a lie. So I finish my sandwich & lunch hour. I take a deep breath, raise my chin, & continue the day.
