Skip to main content

That 32-hour day

A little overwhelmed. So much going on, too little time. The 2 a.m. hour rolls around and, again - as so often it happens - I find myself awake. Body and mind are tired, but the wheels are still turning. Want to write, need to write. That story from the soul that gives you a shiver as good as the moment you see a sunrise or sunset. Want to read, everything I can - the Bible, a former journalism mentor's family memoir, history of Freemasons. Intrigued by my family history, and want to explore every depth and chronicle that genealogical story before it's lost. Gears are going on the emailed political debates with an old roommate and close friend. Another good bud brings up interesting notions in our joint-efforts to study religion. My mind goes, too, to my Michigan trip this weekend and all I need to accomplish at work before then. Work and legal issues playing out in my head, as I recap the high-profile trial I sat through today. Still have to work on the neighborhood newsletter that's due and going out soon. Neighborhood Watch issues to reflect on. Old frienships to nurture. Out-of-control health that needs immediate attention. Want to spend time at home with my wife, housekeeping and movie-watching and chatting about life in general. Figuring out how to devote and split time to both our attention-needing dog and cat. Want to have all the money to put in a fence, build a patio, plant a new tree, landscape the backyard, and paint the interior of our house. All at once. Too much debt, too many bills. Really want to catch some ZZZs, but the brain won't take a break. Meanwhile, my new contacts aren't in yet and I have to continue wearing these specs that make my eyes feel heavy, create a sensation that I'm being less productive than I could be if only wearing those contacts. It's all in the mind.

When did life become so overwhelming, so complicated, so convoluted that we push off sleep to handle every possible project that could actually wait until a later time? Even knowing that truth, the feeling remains: So much to do. Too little time.

About to brew a second cup of instant java. Swirl and dunk, dunk, then sip. Mmmm, so warm on a cold night. At least the trash and recyling's done, put out by the curb ready for Wednesday's pickup. There's one item off the list. Now, moving on to others before the sleep sets in.....

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Welcome to the End of the World?

Well, did anyone think this is what 2020 would look like? Global pandemic and worldwide public health emergency, everything shutting down and a potential economic collapse on the horizon. Holy fuck. ' A "Pandemic (in Quarantine) Playlist on my Spotify is now a thing, and my own remote worklife now in its 8th year has taken on an eeerie new spin. As are my watchlists full of dystopian and post-apocalyptic TVs and movies for streaming in these strange times. All of my work travel and conferences for the spring have been nixed, and we're all watching closely to see what the impact may be for summer events. What about my "underlying health condition" that is type 1 diabetes? So far, so good. No signs of anything astray. As I've shared over on DiabetesMine, I have been using the Tandem t:slim X2 device since mid-October 2019. That followed three-and-a-half years of Multiple Daily Dosing with pens and Afrezza inhaled insulin insulin. I starte...

A Writer's Pen

A writer carries a pen. That is the way it is. For as long as I recall, that's how it has been. Moments have appeared, of course, where that vow failed. Where I did not have a pen to write with. Where the pen was in my hand, but it didn't write. Moments in history are marked by the written word. Journalists know and live this truth*.... ( yes, truth matters. Facts matter. Alternate versions of both do not **.) ... [ the fact that we have to emphasize this in 2020-21 is ridiculous, but the reality exists ]. I carry a pen. Because I'm a writer. Because the written word matters. Because facts and details matter. Context is everything. Painting a picture with my words is what I've done, professionally and personally, for so long. Words have painted a picture, opened a portal into the heart and mind. I've read what others have written with their own pens, even if those pens aren't physical but mental and those words have materialized from digital tools. The idea of w...

Flapping the Gums

No time for my chatty-typing fingers to engage you today. I'm off to the dentist's office for a dreaded appointment. Thanks to the wonders of D-enduced periodontal disease, this should be a visit full of poking, prodding, pain, and likely some bleeding. Great times. Not looking forward to this visit. Or the next more painful one. I see soup in my future. Maybe Easy Mac. But, I digress. That's all fodder for a future blog post. In the meantime today, talk amongst yourselves. Flap those online gums in the blogging world. And remember to brush and floss.