Not even a late-afternoon glass from a coworker’s Diet Coke stash could lift me out of the riptide of exhaustion that pulled me under the moment I got home. I put my things down, removed my jewelry and shoes, and dove into bed for the serious business of an underwear nap at 5 p.m.
I’ve only been up for an hour and I’m about to head right back.
This week has been weird and today has been weirder. The goal, of course and always, is learning how not to get knocked over by the flow if I’m not going along with it, whether that’s by choice or not. Sometimes it happens anyway. Sometimes it leads to doing things you’ve only thought of doing.
And then there are also days where you find out that there’s an independent film set in your college town because the director knows someone you once knew.
I need to get to the gym before my legs atrophy. I need to get some of these book ideas down on paper. But, most pressing of all, I need more sleep.