Life is so weird. It has a feeling of layering, piece upon piece, seeming to repeat in places. But really, each moment follows the other in a line, second after second after minute after minute after hour after hour and on and on. We have moments where we create something or achieve something and in that moment it is the highlight, but then that moment passes and the highlight is old and forgotten. Strange.
I weaned myself off caffeine. Then gradually, I would have a tea here, a tea there, to the point where I’m addicted to the crap again. It isn’t as bad as it could be; I don’t drink it every day. Yet I have gotten to the point that on the days I don’t drink it I feel like a rundown engine, like I’m in fourth gear heading up a hill, my parts clanking.
Today I haven’t had any, and while I have had a few uninterrupted hours while Isabel sleeps, I have not had the energy or spark to perform any of my creative tasks at all. I picked up the cello and played a bit. Blah. I sat down here to write. Nothing to say. I need to finish my taxes, which really won’t be difficult, but oh, so exhausting. I just want to lie around and watch a movie. It’s pathetic. I did manage a run this morning, and it’s a good thing I did it then, because I wouldn’t do it now.
Caffeine is insidious. It’s a drug, for sure. I’m debating just drinking some just to get over the hump. I need to work on my book. Baby is occupied. This is as good a time as any. But if I do, I’m just keeping the cycle going. When would ever be a good time? I just don’t know.
This post is about as blah as I feel in my caffeine-deprived state.