i know i didn’t keep up my end of the bargain. 30 days, 30 posts. but, i suppose there was no one on the the other end to keep me accountable; because i didn’t have the energy to keep getting there. it’s a lame excuse, and it’s the one that is most typical. but, i’m not without remorse, and a low-grade feeling of humiliation. it’s so me to not have kept it up, that it’s almost, (i said, almost) laughable.

but, i’m here and i feel badly about it, and i’m embarrassed, again, but there it is. i suppose there is some value in being honest. the value being that i’m finding it difficult to find the value in doing something for the sake of doing something for myself. and trust, i know how that sounds – and it’s so very adolescent, but there are chips on shoulders and there are crutches to lean on, and i’m choosing the crutch because i need the balance, and i need something to lean on, because i’m just so damned tired. i don’t know when i’ll feel less tired, i don’t know when i’ll feel like some portion of my life will be mine again, and i don’t say that with a sense of resentment, i’m just immersed with taking care of someone else, and i’m not very good at taking care of myself on the best of occasions, so this is just… simpler.

not great, no, i didn’t say that. just simpler.

but, i’m here, and i’ll come back again soon – i promise.

the days are still too warm, but the nights are bringing out sweaters and light scarves. and i’m ready, so ready to end this summer of sweltering heat, and this all-consuming let down of a season. i’m not wishing these days away, because sandwiched between the not-so niceties are amazing sparks of wonder and joy – but, i’ve felt weighed down by this heat, by foot-tapping anxiousness, by this slight sadness for far too long. and i’m ready to begin again, to molt this heaviness, and feel comfort in my skin again. i’m just waiting for the start of it.

with palms out, she’s been treading tables, chairs, and anything else she could grab onto for months now. she gingerly moves her feet to the side and brings the other one back to where it belongs, and she goes on and on and on, until – NO! no more, and she decides that crawling is the more direct method to get from point a, to point b, to point mummy.

but, lo!, perhaps she didn’t notice, perhaps she was too enticed by plastic lids and bottles of golden oil to notice, perhaps her little brain fired the synapse that yelled GO! and so, without her palms out, without feeling for walls to guide her way – today, something happened, and she went. she walked. unassisted. on her own. away she went… away she goes.

and i, immediately burst into tears, because although she walked those eight steps right into my arms – i could almost see her walk right past me as well… but, it wasn’t a sadness, it was a swift moving hope. a synapse that fired, JOY! and she’s walking herself right into it.

i’m so over the uncomfortable temperatures, even early in the morning. i’m so over the humidity wreaking havoc on my hair, my skin, my general sense of comfort. i’m so done with leaving the house looking one way, and returning not too much later looking as if i were dunked in the local diner’s deep fryer. i’m so done walking through what seems to be something akin to pea soup. i’m so done with worrying about my sweatstache, my frizzy hair and melting makeup.

summer, i’m breaking up with you. and if you must know, it is you and not me. you can throw out anything i ever gave you, i won’t need any of it. don’t call, don’t visit, don’t even whisper my name. i never want to see you again. we’re through.

sweaters and scarves, i’m calling you soon, i’ve missed you. want to get a drink sometime?

and then i was asleep.

funny, that.

when i was younger i suffered, (and i well and truly mean that i suffered) a mean case of insomnia. it was somewhere between my second and third year at university. somewhere in-between where things started to go all pear-shaped and i just stopped going to class one day. for about six months. or was it a year? i don’t remember anymore. no one asked, so i didn’t have to make any excuses.

all i know is that one day, i couldn’t sleep. i just couldn’t fall asleep. it was as if when the day turned to night and it was time to shut my eyes, that was when my mind would wake from some sort of muddy catatonic state and go manic. so set on edge, when all the cogs would get to work, that it would make me physically ill and i just couldn’t stay in bed. there were countless hours of television, watching nothing in particular. cellophane wrappers from all the cigarette packs smoked strewn across tables, crinkling in my hand, a nervous habit. so many nervous habits.

and when, hours and hours later, a crack in the sky would let a sharp line of light in, i’d know that i’d almost made it. i’d just need to make it another hour or two and i could finally have some rest. i’d go outside, when absolutely no one needs to be out, and i would walk, walk around the block, walk anywhere, just to be able to get back. because when it was finally light out, and i had nothing left to do, and no energy to think – i’d finally be able to sleep.

i’m just as tired now as i was then, but i rarely have any trouble falling asleep now…

and for those two days in a row, every night before i lay my head down to sleep, i didn’t pray my soul to keep, but i did lament the fact that i had not, did not write anything for the day. the thought to write was present, but the what to write was not. and i could say that i’ll just tack on two days to the tail of the 28, but that’s just somewhat stupid, because either i’m going to write or i’m not, and 28 days isn’t really going to make a difference to that becoming true, or not becoming true. so. there was that.

and now, as per usual, it’s somewhere near quarter past 2200 and the time creeps closer to when i begrudgingly, yet necessarily (and slowly) drag my sorry self up the stairs to climb into bed, but this weekend seems, in so many ways, completely misapplied. time was spent with those near and dear, but the larger quantity of it was spent stuck, aggravatingly like wet cement, in a cramped car in useless traffic. and so, the quality of it was less than stellar. and this annoys me to no end. i don’t ask for much, but weekends have steeped in them something more far-reaching than just having two days off. i need them more now than i ever did when i woke up bleary-eyed and confused from the events of the night before. now, i need them because i wake-up bleary-eyed and confused from the weeks prior that i’m trying to catch up with, even though i know that train is moving at a far quicker clip than i’ll ever be able to keep pace with… and i watch it go, and oh – shit – it’s 2230 and… sigh. goodnight.

it’s too hot, i’m out of sorts and not in the mood to explain why.

so, i’ll try to think of something clever for tomorrow. goodnight, goodnight.

not generally speaking, i’m actually rather accommodating, i can, at times, also be something damn near ebullient. i’m-happy-to-help-here-to-please-and-anything-you-might-need-just-let-me-know-because-i’m-here-for-you! i’m pretty much willing to help anyone, anyone but myself.

after 34 years, i’m still last on the list, and still after 34 years, i’m not sure why. and it’s hard to keep reminding myself that i deserve a chance too. i don’t want to be last on the list, but i feel like things are fast becoming too far out of reach, and that being unkind is so much simpler than taking the time to be nice. to myself.

yeah, i just read that over. where’s the tiniest violin when you need it?

and really, i’m not so much that. well, sometimes, sure, sure i am – but, most of the time i’m pretty okay. and although, here i am, posting before, (shocker!) going to bed, i’m just letting you, yes – you – you to the right of me, that right now, i’m okay. who knows about tomorrow, though. so watch yo’self.

so, until then – a little something to watch, for yourself: