Treading Water

I used to be ambitious. I wish I knew what the hell happened to that.

Day after tomorrow I leave for home. For some reason that really depresses me. I mean you would think that getting home, my own bed, my own car, would be great. I miss my kid, I miss my cats. I joke that I'm on vacation but I have worked full time plus done a lot of tkr and other related stuff so in reality I have not had a lot of time here.

I just realized a few things today. Like:

* what is wrong with me? both IG and Nero have given me specific exercises to do dating back to January (for IG). It's been like a year and I still haven't done them. With ambition like this, it's a wonder I'm not still a slug.

Wait.

Never mind.

* what is wrong with me? I keep making these halfhearted "someday I will make a real commitment" sort of wishes related to RV. When am I going to tell enough of the world to stuff it that I can view every day? I said once that any avoidance of RV for more than 48 hours that does not involve an NDE is denial.

(How can it be denial if I admit it? My brain hurts.)

* what is wrong with me? I've spent two weeks near the largest natural mineral hot springs in the country and haven't managed to go there once. I can't believe it. In reality I spent a small fortune, four DAYS in transit RT, all so I could do very little less than I do at home, except I didn't have the taxi-mom duties. Sigh.

It's like all the ambition I once had, all the intensity, and commitment, has faded into some wish-I-could-nap, chronically sleep deprived, kinder-gentler lack of concern. It's gross!

Well, so... what's wrong with me. I have work overdue and I'm blogging. I am supertired and I'm not sleeping. I need to meditate and pray and instead I'm typing. I was thinking the other day that I don't really need to worry about remote influence, not that I ever did of course, but it seems to me I'm far more dangerous to myself than anybody else is.

I left my ambition on a distant shore, I guess. Now, I just feel like... I'm treading water.
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