I feel as scattered as these mixed up sequins and beads.
It is one of those times when I wish that the Tardis comes to where I am and the Doctor takes me away, or that I find a mysterious path at the back of my closet, and I would willingly go in.
I came from a barely slept night. As I wrote in this morning's Pages, last night was like a storm, and the first part of my sleep-attempt was the worst of it. The anxiety pounding in my heart was like the loudest, cruelest claps of thunder, and my very shallow breathing was like the incessant pouring of heavy, white rain. A couple of hours into the worst of this internal storm, I started feeling somewhat sleepy, and I fell into a series of unnerving scenarios in my dreams.
I awoke a little past two a.m. and I tried breathing to drive away the anxiety, but how everything inside just rumbled and tugged at everything else. I was awake for another couple of hours or so, and only fell asleep a short while before my alarm went off.
Now I am as good as a cast for The Walking Dead. As a walker, only less bloody.
See, I don't like this kind of feeling or anxiety. I mean I may enjoy other kinds of pain but not this kind of pain and discomfort arising from anxiety and uncertainty. I have been trying to figure out how to be a calm bunny and just, you know, flow and progress. This just came about some time Tuesday night and then morphed into some kind of monster yesterday. In any case, I need to gather me up so later I shall step out and sit somewhere with coffee and a nice companion book and my journal for anything that pours out, while I watch the time and the world go by, and be back in time for work.