“later” has arrived

I stayed up ’till near midnight trying to complete a post about running. It’s coming. I promise. After all, this was once a running blog.

The night that followed was a sleepless night — for both me and YaYa (whom I let sleep with me). Taking turns waking during the night, I believe that I saw every hour on the clock between 3 am and 6 am. By the time my clock started chiming to call me out back from what finally felt like sleep, a refusal-to-get-OUT-OF-BED had hit my being through and through.

When I’d finally drug my sorry arse out of bed, I could feel an all too familiar feeling of sadness. DAMN! “Later” has arrived. Much like the dull headache you get after drinking too much (not that I know anything about that), this feeling never quite leaves no matter what measures you take.

I make the strongest cup of coffee that I can and drag my body into the bathroom for a look in the mirror. It’s just as I thought; I feel bad and look it too. Unfortunately, I lack the energy or want to do much about it. I drag the brush through my tanged hair (knowing full well that I will be left with a frazzled mess), then pull my hair up in a ponytail. I open up my bathroom drawer and sort through my make up for a little color. I hope this will brighten up my face — I hate when my co-workers tell me that I look like shit (even if I do). Then I dig through my drawer looking, but not finding, my smile. It appears to have been misplaced.

From my closet, I retrieve a jacket which I love but have never worn. I’m not sure what goes with it but I love the way the inside lining feels against my skin — soft like a much needed caress. I grab a silky tank and my favorite jeans and, not caring if I looks right or not, rush down the stairs to get YaYa off to school.

And somewhere in the midst of all of this effort to feel (or maybe just look) okay, I yell at YaYa for no good reason. So now I feel even worse even after the apology. So much for supporting him through this day.

I can only hope that once I immerse myself in my work that this feeling will pass. In the even that it doesn’t, I could really use a bit of encouraging words, virtual hugs, or even simply a “hello.” Please comment.