I think I’m numb

Today I got a lot of things done. Unfortunately, not much in the realm of writing or even editing. I did a few loads of laundry, dishes, vacuumed the house, folded and put away clothes that were piling up, and then did some work on a website I’m building. Not nearly enough work, but I am fighting a learning curve.

I wanted to get some writing done, but I just didn’t have anything today I wanted to work on. I know that’s not any good reason. I don’t know what is going on there. It’s like I feel creatively hungover or something.

One of the things that I did enjoy about the day is that it was windy and sunny, which meant my laundry dried out on the line in about half an hour and it always smells amazing. Nothing like clean mountain air to ionize your sheets and shirts. I undid all of my accomplishments with the dishes by making banana bread. It wasn’t the best loaf, but at least I didn’t waste the bananas! I drank too much coffee too, which is why I’m still up right now.

My stomach has been killing me lately. Sometimes it’s hard to get food down. Or I just lose interest in eating and pitch half of it. Then I’m hungry again. It might be the coffee doing it, so I’ve been drinking more green tea. Loose leaf. Gunpowder green.

In some ways, things are going great. I sold a post today that will help out greatly, but unfortunately there isn’t a lot left that looks all that appealing. I need to fine tune my goals and put those into action. I should be turning down assignments right now, but just can’t seem to make things connect. I sometimes feel like a coyote chasing a bunch of rabbits at once, and I can’t seem to catch any of them.

I’ve been feeling that call to adventure again lately, but my cashflow has been a problem for that, so I have to stay put and try to make money instead of blowing it on overpriced gasoline. I miss the drone of the highway and the endless tableaux of the world around me, passing by until I decide to stop and take notice. I miss having a grand adventure. Three years ago today, I was boarding a plane and flying to London on my first solo and international adventure. It’s hard to believe it has been three years already. What a crazy ride.

It just feels like a short time ago that I was walking in Hyde Park and looking at all of the trees in bloom, the swans on the Serpentine, wearing my feet into painful piles of blisters seeing the museums and navigating the pavements of that city. I keep wondering if and when I’ll be able to take another trip.

All those times I tried to make plans. Thanks to covid and life, plans with others have fallen through. I’m in no hurry to make plans with anyone else again anytime soon. I miss those late night conversations. Talking about anything and everything until my eyelids are heavy and I just drift off, feeling content. I’m not ready to move on from those memories anymore, and everything else just feels like a pale substitution.

I dunno, there just has to be more to it than all of this.