eleven down, one to go

One more full moon this year; a handful of days, a smattering of nights. I am preoccupied with my work and am uncertain how to navigate through my days, how to fill my nights. Grateful that there are not an endless number of them. Drawing closer to the people nearest to me takes patience and exactitude of mind and heart. The texture of my dreams can be grating and raw. I wake thirsty and exhausted.

True right now: I am soft around the edges, but since I am good at convincing myself that the world is about to end, I don't mind. I can live off the extra for weeks: I've done it before; when the end comes it is going to come down to roller skates and water.

I am sleepy and excited to see this year cycling to a close. Though a rich, deeply rewarding year I am exhausted to the center of my bones and need a week of sundays and two friday nights to fill my reserves.