i am so tired



i woke up this morning exhausted. and i don't just mean a little more than tired. my blood would not wake up. my bones could not open their eyes. i made it through about an hour of work, but my brain was on an infinite loop between nothing1 and nothing2. i had to go home and put myself back to bed.

sometimes lying on your back, head on a pillow, blanket over you is the most delicious gift you can give yourself. like a piece of bread with butter to someone starving. so after spending most of my day in that position i find myself still yawning like tiger in the middle of the zoo day. my eyes are still tearing as if it was bright and early.

i spent the day with po bronson, reading his book what should i do with my life? perfect book and perfect timing. no no no, i'm not quitting my job and heading to the african jungle, but like i said earlier this morning, the book is like one big long extended permission slip.

permission to risk for going what feeds your soul. permission to fail miserably in the process. permission that actually takes you towards something that is less prestigious, if that is what you need. permission to go towards what is right for you, not your appearance or status.

heh. i'm sure many of you thought i wasn't interested in things like appearance or status anyway. and mostly i'm not. but there is still the nagging doubt. or the energy to have to explain yourself and your dreams.



last month i read a great quote that has become a bit of a marya-mantra: don't agonize; organize. there is a part of me that wants to hold this quote at arms distance, which is ironic as i am employed as a project manager. but i think i've had a rationalization that it was okay to plan and map out at work, but that was a much too uptight existance for real life. where's the passion? where's the spontanaeity?

but i really think that this motto is the key. the key. the key. the key.

so many great quotes from bronson's book. maybe i will type a few up here. meanwhile, i feel excited to write again. and feel that it is no coincidence that i've been reading more. and not just any old book, but really connecting with the authors' voices.



the title of this post is funny because there is a song i've listened to about 100 times this week and it is called "i am so tired." did my constant repeat become a declaration to the cosmos? a self-fulfilling prophesing? or just a foreshadowing soundtrack to an inevitably prone friday?