Many aspects of online life commend themselves to thoughtful attention right now, and I might even be motivated to put my oar in if we actually had more engaged blog discussions such as we used to have on olden times. (What’s different? Well, for just one factor, all of us have so many more, divergent online friends to keep in touch with, our energies have been splintered more than when the “us” about whom we seem to be speaking was a lot smaller.)
But I’m exhausted. The stress of the school year, which had settled cozily into by neck and shoulders, has begun a lazy unwinding act. My tenuous attention span permits me to accomplish fifteen-second tasks, or longer tasks that require only tangential attention. I’m subject to sudden weariness, aches and kinks and clumsiness (more so than usual, he rejoined with anticipatory asperity). Simple errands feel as though they require an all-encompassing effort.
On the other hand, relief is coming. Margaret says I look better every day, and my reading list promises stimulating, engrossing food for thought. I may declare email bankruptcy, or in a fit of resurggent energy, actually do something about my backlogged communications. For now, though, if I seem listless or sluggish, please consider me burned out and exhausted, and know that I’m trying to do the things necessary for pulling back together.