Tomorrow, I work at the winery, making six out of seven days.
Tuesday, I drive my wonderful, lifesaving friend to the airport for, possibly, ever.
I have boxes scattered around my apartment, slowly accumulating my entire life within cardboard.
I'm waiting - impatiently - for a call-back on a job that would be a really exciting opportunity.
Now that my gym membership is reactivated - and given my expanding thigh circumference - I want desperately to work out. For physical but also major psychological benefits.
My mind is torn and pulled in so many directions. I want to trust the future and all of its possiblities. I know I'll mourn my excursion from Gloucester. I must believe the work situation will work itself out. But all of this trusting and questioning and wondering and fruitless future-predicting is wearing me out.
I have to take pleasure and solace in the wonderful moments I have, day to day. A laugh with new friends. A discovery of a new Pho restaurant in Woburn. An admission from my boss that she is very happy with my work and success at the winery. The adorableness of a kitty curled up in a cardboard box.
I have to get up in 6 hours. And make nice for 5 hours before I can come home and pass out.
I want to go to the gym. Desperately need to practice my yoga. But right now, my yoga is to breath in and out, remember and hold the positive closely and know that I can concentrate on lovely non-essentials when I get settled, comforted and at peace.