friend: how is my friend May?
me
: i’m sleeping a lot
friend
: hmmm
why is that?
me
: i guess i’d rather sleep sometimes than be awake
life is easier
friend
: ugh
I’ve been there
but I hate that that’s where you are right now
me
: i get up for work and class
just not much more than that
friend
: oh no
I really hate to hear that
anything in particular weighing on you, or is it just life in general feeling like a slog?
me
: just general
friend
: yeah, I hate to hear that
I mean, I understand
I wish I could help….but you know things will turn around and look brighter soon
me
: yeah
thanks
friend
: I know that’s not encouraging
me
: i don’t really expect it. you’re fine, really

I think I’m still okay. I can have fun chats with friends, and I can be social sometimes.

My dreams are crazy, though.  I told someone I dreamt that Prince died, and I spent much of last week consciously believing he was dead. And I have bizarre French dreams.

I wonder if this semester ending will help at all. There are still a few weeks left.

The sunshine should help. I hope it does.

But for now, it’s bedtime.

It’s taking a beating in so many ways. From political unrest to natural disasters.

New Zealand

Japan

Libya

Afghanistan

etc.

If you can, get behind the relief organization of your choice, and let’s help our fellow men. Our friends.

Well, at least about writing.

I got a paper back tonight. My first of the semester that wasn’t French. It earned an A. Nice surprise, considering I’d written it in a big hurry, pretty much until just before it was due.

A year ago, I don’t think I would have written a first paper – in that manner – that would have done as well.

I’m becoming way too comfortable with procrastination.

Also, I’ve learned just not to write about Jane Austen.

So far, I’ve gotten A’s and A-’s on French papers.

My first French grammar midterm earned a B+ (89% – so close!), which relieved me. I remember leaving the testing center thinking I’d be perfectly content with a B. The exam ended with writing a short composition about the novel we’re reading. I remember feeling pretty good about the essay. The professor gave me a bonus point for style, with a little comment at the end: “Vous êtes poète!” Also, thank goodness for bonus points, for I  might have dipped down into B- or C range without them.

So, that balances the ridiculous crying I did today. If those good things hadn’t happened, I would have chalked today up as an epic loss. Of course there are worse things.

Thanks for the comforting texts, you. I wish I had a gold star to give.

Today is a big anniversary
Instead of planning a cute nursery
I look at my life
In shadowy strife

Today marks a fair number of years
Since the day I could have spared myself tears
And look what I’ve done
And not what I’ve won

Today tries to shun most fleeting pleasures
And reconsiders inherent treasures
Be gone now, regret
I have paid my debt

Today passes seasons in such bold hurry
Minutiae flecks my weary eyes blurry
The end of each June
Comes often too soon

Today I break through adversary.

Sitting in bed, lights off. Pajamas on, double the covers because it feels particularly cold in my room. I’m ready for bed. I usually don’t blog in bed, because bed is for sleeping. But I can’t sleep. My thoughts defy me. Some really interesting things are coming together in my life that make sense of why I’m down here in Florida. Right now, I don’t know what I could possibly offer. Prayers, I suppose. Those come in a constant stream. I mean, the whole predicament with the bank hasn’t completely cleared yet, and I had to approach my mom to borrow some money, and when I was telling her on the phone about the situation, I felt a blush heat my face, and all this shame washed over me. And it’s not like I’ve done anything wrong, but it’s the habitual association: all this bad stuff is happening, and that must mean I’m being punished. My logical brain grimaces, but that’s the best it can do, just because the emotional half has taken over. Good things happened today. I finished babysitting and the friend’s parents took over, and my friends seemed especially grateful for the service. Some friends sent me a pretty sweet package from New York City, complete with snickerdoodles and cool music and thoughtful missives. And my mom did agree to loan me the money to conduct some Utah-related business, not so much because she knew I could repay her, but because I happen to be in a little bit of trouble, and I am her child, and she wants to take care of me. Also, my hives are clearing up and now whatever itching comes from my more familiar dry skin, and that’s nothing a good slathering of lotion can’t fix. But, you know, it’s been a well-balanced day, because when I started the car to leave my friend’s from babysitting at 6:30 this morning, it wouldn’t start. And when I thought back to the previous day I’d taken the kids for a short drive to a park, and when I pulled back into the garage and hauled the children back into the house, car seats included, I’d left one of the car doors open, and that drained the battery. So I had to trouble people for a jump start. My friend’s parents, who were taking over the rest of the gig. They were nice enough about it, but that little lapse happened to settle on the pile of things that have made me feel like an idiot. Two bags of snickerdoodles came in that package today, and when I came back from meeting my mom at the bank, one of those bags was missing. And it turned out that the resident dachshund had his way with that bag. I mean, I’m glad he enjoyed the cookies, and he did provide some comic relief to my day. It could have been much worse. And it’s not like the universe rides solely around my life. I’m well aware of kidnappings in my town and shootings everywhere and the world even more quickly crumbling on itself. So now, while I’m not sleeping, I’m trying to sort things out: It’s all personal. It’s all related. But some things hold clear priority over others. And I have to figure out a way to step up and reach out and face some of the real reasons why I’m here in Florida. Because I’m a good friend and daughter and sister. I just have to keep praying. I’m trying not to feel helpless, but something tells me that’s at least part of the point. And the very reasons I can’t sleep right now might also explain why I want to curl up in a little ball. And close my eyes. And pull the double covers over my head. Until it all goes away. 

But that’s not going to happen.

Exhale
Bubbles float to the surface
Eyelids drag when I blink
The crowd holds its breath?

It’s a common trick
If that
The clock ticks
Diaphragm flat

I want to breathe
But I choke
And the chains
I am a bubble, too

The clock is on my side
The clock is the key
The clock is steady
And I wait

I rise, I buoy slowly
My hair, tentacles
Like a Man o’ War’s
Inadvertently stings me

My heart fights
My pulse races
My lungs burn
The clock, steady

I surge past
Where the water
Meets the sky
And I gasp for August.

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