2005-07-28 - 2:31 p.m.
There are multiple things I want to be doing right now, but somehow this won out. I'm not usually good on writing in this diaryland diary, but this summer I've also been terrible at writing in my paper journal and in what I call "my workbook." I think it's because I am rarely alone. I don't think I know how to write anymore. Maybe I have lost that inner dialogue with myself. With God.
Right now my legs are so soft and smooth. My knees are deeply sunburned. I am tired of squinting but I rarely wear my glasses, only when I'm going to a museum or watching a movie. In Glasgow I wore my glasses more often than not, pretty much whenever I left the house. Maybe it was part of my disguise.
George and I have to move out of this place this weekend. We're both packing up and heading back to the flux. That'll mean I spent (significantly) more time living in a room with Spencer this summer than I have living in a room with Georgiana. It's not the summer I expected. It would probably be very useful for me to stop having expectations at all.
I have felt different the past couple days. The slow wheels of change from feeling utterly bereft of anything positive--totally decimated-- to feeling like I can (maybe maybe) pull myself out. Or let myself be lifted out. I don't want to overstate the feelings of hope and optimism. It may be that I have gotten so used to feeling bad that it's starting to feel good. I don't think so though.
I feel like from now until one year from now, so much needs to be accomplished. I need to get so much done in so many areas of my life on so many levels. I need to make so many decisions and make so much progress. I need to figure out so much. There's not really a time limit, but I feel like within a year's time, the crux of the matter will be determined, or at least the end will begin to be set forth.
I just have to focus on the small things. It's all I can handle, so I just have to babystep it. And I have to stop myself from falling again by not thinking.
