Deep Breath

I cut my finger yesterday, the first finger on my left hand, right on the inside of the place where the finger bends.  That makes playing the violin or guitar a bit painful.  And I’m playing violin at church today.  I can do it.  Just barely.  But it hurts.  Every note hurts.

That’s kind of how I’m feeling in general these days.  I can do it.  Just barely.  But every day is a struggle.  I seem to be feeling more tired in the mornings.  Things at work feel more exhausting.  Things at home seem more frustrating.  It all hurts, you might say.  Every moment.  It’s not helping a whole lot, knowing that it’s my last year teaching.  In some ways it seems harder.

But maybe I’m just feeling the change in the weather.  Rain set in, here in Portland, after an amazingly long stretch of sunny autumn days.  Now the clouds are back, and the mornings are dark, and I really think we’re all going through a kind of inner transition.  As if our bodies are switching from photosynthesis to internal combustion,and there are just a few days here when we have no energy at all.  Hopefully that’s it, and I’ll perk up later.

I got the first copy of The Year on 42 in the mail on Friday.  The cover looks great.  Kate should be proud.  But there were some formatting errors inside that I needed to fix.  My layout and design department got rather frustrated yesterday, trying to negotiate the technical details of fixing the problems (while Joseph was throwing pillows and complaining of boredom).  I should probably fire that whole department, along with my marketing department.

So I find myself breathing deeply a lot, and exhaling slowly, and trying not to think too far into the future.  Like not more than five minutes ahead.  More than that, and I might start hyperventilating.

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