So of course one day after declaring my intent to write more often...I don't write.
It wasn't intentional. For some reason yesterday, I was exhausted. I got home from a staff retreat and instead of schlubbing around my apartment, I called a friend and walked to the local library.
I grew up in Brooklyn. I would walk everywhere, and if I was too tired to walk home, I would take public transportation home. It was great. It was liberating. It made the world seem alive. Where I live now, the library is the closest walkable destination. No sidewalks, no shops on the way. Just a tiny library, with a better movie selection than reading options. What does that say about America today?
Anyway, after this walk, which took the better part of an hour (growing up the library was 5 minutes away, now it is 20), in a strong summer sun, I was beat. I watched some TV and crashed, and boy did I crash. I passed out and next thing I knew it was time to actually go to sleep. That nap ruined my day. I didn't sleep well and woke up late, missing my time at the gym. I have been out of sorts all day, exhausted and cramping, and left work early.
Now, 4 hours later, I am feeling back to normal. I started one of the books, but am still working on feeling better in my, as my sister says, dome piece.
Thankfully, I have the vote of confidence from some friends, so that helps.