Warning: rather aimless, pointless, rant/whine post about nothing of any consequence, coming up.
For about a week now, I’ve roamed around like a zombie. Not fully sure what I’m doing. Writing, yes, in fits and starts. Working steadily, just not fast enough. It’s like my brain is on hibernate and jogging it back to its waking state is going to take some time and effort that I am not willing to put in right now. It’s like I just can’t get a grip. I feel a bit like a headless chicken, in a race that I must finish. Except I don’t know what’s at the end of it, so I’m not sure I want to run it at all. Add to it the effects of newly stretched muscles and the awesome pain of endorphins rushing through your veins and you have a nice stiff cocktail that screams just-please-let-me-be.
The outcome of it all is that things are taking long. Far too long. So long that the little things are getting stretched disproportionately and by the time I’m done it’s too late to do start focusing on the big things. I’m stuck in that downward spiral. I want so badly to just grab on to something and get moving, upwards. Yet I’m kind finding it a lot easier to let myself slide, even though I know that in the end I probably wont like it very much.
If it sounds like I’m rambling, I probably am. I’m kind of woozy from a crazy morning of working out despite waking up late, thanks to a little too much wine last night. And then surviving a mad, extra crazy scramble of chores. And a morning that has hit me square in the face when I am clearly not ready for a new day.
Anyhoo, here’s a doodle I made yesterday. I didn’t know what brought it on then, but I know now: it’s the need to do stuff like its meant to be done. To move on and and stop feeling weightless and aimless like I am. Come on, chop chop!
And no, its not PMS, in case any of you is tempted to suggest it. It seems to me like a case of the Thursday Morning Blues. If such a thing doesn’t already exist, it does now. But onwards and upwards we must move. Much as I don’t feel like I’m in the frame of mind to do so, and all I really want to do is sleep. Till this weird feeling blows over, try I will.