It’s the day before New Year’s Eve & I am drudged down with tonsils the size of golf balls, drinking coffee to stay awake through the drilling & pounding, not in my head, but in the bathroom, as a construction guy tears out dry rot and mumbles unencouraging words, “uh-oh…” and “damn” followed by a lot more pounding and drilling.
I made it through Christmas, sang along to Sinatra and Fitzgerald. I wrapped packages and personalized thank you cards for my customers. I mailed three typewriters, in line, at the post office, daily.
I attended my stepmother’s annual party (snore…) & drove up the mountain to my parent’s for the big day. I gave all the right gifts (I think) and I played the good daughter.
I. Am. Exhausted.
I want my quiet little nest back, my deep porcelain bathtub, my cozy couch, my small sunny kitchen–my quiet, my organized, my very necessary, sometimes, solitude.
I am trying to ground it all down. Ground, ground, ground. if I could just dig my feet deep into the earth, the weather, the chaos could blow and my roots would be still.
I have dug out Louise Hay again, taking in her mantra “All is well in my world” feeding my mind good thoughts and brave declarations: “I am healthy”, “I am worthy of success”, “I am lovable” while the demons laugh from the stands. Well, let them.
I say all this to get it out of my head. I release you, icky thoughts! I let you go! And in comes a breeze, clears out the muck & makes way for quiet and new ideas.