Finally. A break. I can't even begin to tell you how much of a toll this semester is taking on me. Between books for class and writing syllabi and thesis proposals and the 25 page paper due in two weeks that I don't even have a topic for, I haven't even had time to THINK. Yoga is out of the question...30 free minutes in a day are so rare, and when I have them, I don't have the fucking energy to do anything but snuggle in a puddle on the floor with the bunny nuzzled in the crook of my arm.
This week, everything has gone wrong. Okay, not everything, but it's been a pretty shitty few days. I work myself all up in a panic about something, only to realize that, as I've been saying semi-constantly recently, "the world won't end". First it's work drama. Then it's school drama. Then it's hole-in-my-airbed drama. Then it's show-up-to-a-cancelled-class-when-you-could-have-gone-home-hours-ago drama. For someone who hates drama, I'm sure attracting a lot of it this week.
But yet at the same time, I feel this weird, intrinsic peace. It's like, everything is swirling, spinning so fast, so far out of my control, but my attitude is just "eh, fuck it". And with that "fuck it" attitude comes a sense of self I haven't felt in months.
Earlier this week I finally put pen to paper and started to iron out potential thesis topics (shoutout to the person who seriously saved my ass, asking all the right questions, you know who you are). In the four pages of proposal, I found a renewed sense of energy. It was more of a spurt of strength, the last 100 meters of a 400 meter dash when you know you have to finish it but you're so...tired...but...you see the finish line. It's there, in front of you. The end is in sight. The break with the water bottle and the towel to mop your face and a welcome chair to collapse into until the start of the next race. And so you push on, faster, harder, forcing yourself to just finish this one damn race...
That's where I am. That burst of energy is getting me through the thesis proposal and the syllabus-writing. I feel myself slowing down as I think about the 25 page paper I don't have a topic for yet, not to mention the three other papers I haven't started. I'm fighting the urge to lie down on the track and just let the other runners fucking trample me on their way to the finish line. But I'm not one to give up a race without a fight. Only once. And only because I collapsed (yes, literal now).
The peace I feel is welcoming. I feel like I'm slowly drawing out of the fog I've been in for the past month or two. It's a weird feeling, knowing I have the capacity for this sense of inner calm when everything around me seems so insane.
I've got smarter posts to write, less personal pieces, but right now, I'm going to watch the bunny confuse herself on the bed (it's not springy! She sinks!) and listen to Dar Williams. In other words, I'm taking a fucking break. See you next week, interwebs.
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