when you really want him? Does he come along only when you're not looking or is he like Santa and only arrives when you've fallen asleep or is he like a London bus, no not big and red, but comes along in sets of three?
These days, or nights, I don't get to sleep until around 2am, which is a huge improvement on the 4 and 5 am watch l have been on in the last few weeks. Last night at 1.00am I was grouting around the tiles l had put up around the bathroom sink because l saw it needed finishing and not feeling very tired I just got onto it.
I do like my bed though, truly love it. On several levels! I love to read in bed. I love to sleep in bed. I love to sleep in. I love to just relax in bed. My new bedroom is a haven of all the little things l cherish. A place to relax and ponder. Pictures. Photographs. Paintings. Books. Jewellery. Solid wooden furniture. Vintage textiles. Pretty items arranged on the dressing table and other surfaces. More clutter, no more less is more. My style. Me.
But frustratingly at the moment, l find l cannot read at all. It is something l've too often taken for granted as a simple pleasure, but even reading a magazine seems to take on Tolstonian proportions. It is par for the course, l do recognize this and acknowledge it as part of the process. Moving out. Moving on. Claiming my future. In my hands. Just mine. A chink of excitement tickles my spine and fades.
Many of us here are miles, even continents apart but we are still in it together; Chic Mama, Amy, Erin, Suburbia, me... the guys too and there are many more of you out there. Moments like these all add up and as time passes, peace and acceptance lingers...
l hope, just hold on.