This one rolled around quickly, but I'm glad for it as always.

My week was short on sleep, high on feeling and busy with work. I didn't drink enough water. I forgot to take my iron supplements. I dodged a few bullets and got hit by others. No hits to vital organs though. I went home every day and fantasized about having no feelings, about being some perfectly aloof specimen.

I thought about mirrors again. Stephanie wrote a post about them. And then there was this amazing (I mean, really amazing) photo over on Leslie Williamson's blog. I read a bunch of poetry. Too much poetry really... I was searching instead of being open. I prefer to be open, but I had some idea I wanted to find. And when I didn't find it I went to bed spent and hungry, with a gaping hole of an idea unexpressed and perhaps unexpressable.

But now it's Friday and I can see a finish line. And no matter what I tell myself about it being an illusion of freedom I won't find, my mind is trained on it and I'm leaning forward to try to reach it faster. And it will at least mean a coffee after work, perhaps a stroll, perhaps some kind of dessert.

Tomorrow, I'll get a haircut and maybe a new colour too. Maybe I'll buy a few things, something that catches my eye quite suddenly, that strikes me as beautiful and a new kind of talisman. I need things to shore me up right now... the seas have been stormy.

What are you up to? Wishing you a lovely weekend.
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