It makes me chuckle how no amount of rest really feels restful completely. I thought, staring at page one of a final paper that at the other end, would be bliss and freedom and unbridled glee, and then I get there and all I can do is stare at the ceiling as my mind reels and unpacks and plays memories on repeat.
I am at a sort of loss of blog posts as of late.... the minute I get the time is the minute that the thoughts stop. I wish I was rejuvenated, but I feel more confused, like a bumper car who got untethered and now is just slip-slidin' around. One day I will handle transition better, I promise. I just love the consistency that comes in the middle. I like being surrounded. The bookends of semesters and seasons are what get me down (even though I don't like to believe it).
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