My weeks right now are full to the brim. In certain moments I feel overwhelmed by it, forgetting meals and finding myself holding my breath. My thoughts at bedtime have become a strange cascade of work woes, crawling under my skin when I'm trying to sleep.
And yet... I'm feeling more myself last week than a month ago, even than a week ago. I've been working out every day. And when I have remembered to eat, I've been making beautiful and brightly-coloured food. The weather, too, has put a spring in my step. People are complaining it's too cold, but I catch myself walking to the subway, my face lifted to the beautiful blue of our sky right now.
I'm reading a new book too and that always fills me with something akin to euphoria. I love how that hook sinks in and I'm as always filling to be swallowed, to submerge, to lose myself in it.
I barely glanced at my reader all week, but certain things jumped out: The lushness, the obvious choices. Stories as stories. Filling it fuller and fuller with the past.
And now, a weekend. Have a lovely one.