It's like a disease

Waiting for things you cannot control is kind of like being sick. You know you are going to survive. You know you will live. You know you are going to make it through, though you don't know when. Every logical part of you that can still function through the haze says don't worry.

Then there's the rest of you, the sniveling, leaking, snotty, cough-prone you, whose every fiber screams imminent death and despair.

That s sort of what life is like for me now. It's not as if there is anything that is really crowding my time, or that I cannot manage. It's not as if I am juggling anything more than usual. And yet, I feel like I have taken on way too much. I feel as if I am bearing with some massive stress that I cannot carry. Life lately is a burden with little happiness, rest, or respite.

What I wouldn't give to be up in the snow of the Coast Range again right now! What I wouldn't give to have back that gate across the road and that sense of unending nothingness beyond it, that road to who knows where climbing higher and higher against the northern face of the cold mountain, disappearing into the clouds! Yet I would never go there alone. But that's another story, for another day.

I suppose all of this is compounded by some of todays events that left a bitter taste in my mouth. This month has been particularly non-lucrative and yet I worked all the same, leaving me with the feeling of being unvalued. Then I get a major project torpedoed by my own father. I'm an idiot, I should have seen that coming, should have seen the cold feet and known it had no chances. It's my fault for being mad, because I'm the one who set the hopes high. What is it they say in Buddhism? That desire is the root of all pain. I don't always agree with that, but I think it does apply here.

Tomorrow I have to get back to being über-productive me. Too many things to do, can't slack now. Maybe by the end of the week, with some significant progress, I might feel better about the whole thing. For now? Meh.