I woke up yesterday morning unable to remove the weight from my shoulders. All day long it was more of the same. I felt heavy and sad, and not really concerned about either emotion.
You ever get the feeling you could sleep for a week and still be tired?
That you'll never finish that book that you started to read last summer?
That you'll never write (or do) anything as good as that thing you wrote (or did) last year at this time?
That you are alone in the universe, and not in a good way?
Do you ever feel like there must be more to happiness than just being happy?
There are so many things we hold over our own heads that drag our heads under water.
Here's a little list of things that have been hanging over my head:
- I can't clean my own house.
- I have no interest in cooking.
- I am too fond of flickr, where all my friends are "imaginary."
- I look at the weed of a sumac tree covering my doorway and I just brush past it as I schlep things inside. I've watched it grow into a menace since it sprouted this past spring. Cutting it down is too much effort.
- I don't want to play another toddler game.
- I watch too much TV.
- I can't concentrate on reading novels and feel guilty when I try.
- I haven't been on a walk in weeks.
- I don't care about my appearance anymore.
- I want someone else to be the mommy for a while, but I'm afraid they'll be better at it; in fact I'm sure they will.