coda

04sep2006; 10:30pm

Well I know I've already posted today. Twice, it probably seems to you. But the truth is, this is the first free time Iíve had in a long long time, and Iím sort of beside myself with inactivity. Iím physically drained - hills abound here, and I'm coming off the pack-move-settle frenzy. But my mind is restless. I am anxious to get to work (remind me of that when itís midterms and I'm pulling my hair out).

It is very dry here, and I can't stop drinking. I've eaten three oranges today simply to quench my dry throat, and that is on top of four or five glasses of water and lots of tea.

It's 10pm and it would be totally permissible for me to go to bed. Too bad I'm not tired. I haven't had a good cry yet, not even when the dogs were lost yesterday. I wonder if it is having a roommate that is making me draw into myself. I know we are equal participants in the house, and we each have equal rights, but I find myself deferring to him. I find myself apologizing for my dogs when it is his dog that is being unfriendly. Right now almost all of the stuff in the house is his. No doubt that plays a role. It's hard to feel 100% comfortable about making yourself a cup of tea if the teapot, tea and spoons all belong to someone else. Do I need to ask every time I use something? That feels a little bit ridiculous - I'd be asking constantly!!

I can't wait until my stuff arrives, though I know it will be weeks coming.

I am beginning to process the last few months... my summer, my job at the store ending, my move, my now-finished summer fling. I am truly in an incipient moment, balancing here as this year begins to unroll. I'm reminded of a poem that I can't access right now. I can't even remember who it is by,

Until I am thrown, hurler and hurled into this present moment.

Until is the sticking point. The bottleneck. The barb on a plant that catches your sleeve as you walk by and will let you pass only once you have stopped and picked apart the problem, freeing yourself and the solution with your attention. The blocked drain. The hung zipper. The breath that is held.

Anyway, I don't need to rhapsodize. I start work tomorrow morning at 9. The zipper will be freed, the clogged drain opened. I will exhale.

Oh. My. God. I am a cliché. Every hear of Waiting to Exhale?