This is me this week. I’m just not as cute or lovable. The last three weeks, i was pushing, running, pushing more, running again, as piles grew, but the piles while working didn’t feel that big when i’d stop, so i’d push and run some more. After last weekend and the following days, explanations for which i am not going to go into again, i’m exhausted. Physically, emotionally, cerebral-y (that is SO a word, even if i just made it up). Small world of one’s own, large world one lives in, i’m just so tired of it all. All i want to do is sleep. I’m taking two naps a day, going to bed early (though i do get up early from years of habit), but it’s still not enough sleep.
I’ve got plans, lists, ideas. I try to be disciplined. I keep a sketchbook handy. I’m not short on materials. I’m pleased with what i have done, confident in my skills, assured of future work– but I still just want to sleep.
Isn’t “lockdown” perfect for sleep? Sleep it all away, all the wilful ignorance, vanity, hatred, jealousy, self righteousness, self entitlement, self importance. Keep the circle small, make it smaller than it already is. If i sleep until January, maybe that magic flip of the calendar page will work this time.
I’m trying to find that one bit of perfection in a day but for whatever reason, sleep is the thing.