Finished a sendable draft of my writing for this packet, but exhausted. Can barely read at night...resorted to catalog shopping! Rereading "Beloved" after a period of years and finding it this time absolutely electrifying, now I get it a bit more and can be more patient with the quirks in the writing. Just beautiful, but maybe I'm getting too old to read about such suffering. Longing for some peace.
Kids were wild this weekend -- too much indoor time and red food coloring (Cat in the Hat cokies). Consequently, I have few reserves. My eczema-ringed eye is beginning to make me look like a battered wife. I can see people looking at me, wondering if they should ask...
Gave up two hours of writing time this morning to go to yoga, just so I could survive the day. Wonderful. Even helped me with my essay on somatic memory, though of course I wasn't supposed to be thinking about that!
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