How did I end back here, prowling the house at 2am? I feel like a have fallen off some unspoken wagon; went back on some silent promise. I haven’t run since Saturday. I have started up the sordid affair with the vending machine again (Doritos four days straight). Coffee is all that I drink. I want to sleep at 8pm and now all of a sudden I am back to being wide awake on the darker side of the night. How did I get to this point? I know I need a wake up call to go back to sleep but all I feel is lackluster lethargy. Here’s the evidence:
- For the first time in fund raising history I could care less if people donate to the cancer run. I’m not even trying to raise the minimum.
- For the first time in family history I could care less what anyone else does (or doesn’t). It really isn’t any of my business.
- I have no desire to plant the bulbs I had been dreaming about all summer.
- I have no desire to paint the brand new shiny slider. And to think I have been looking forward to the new door since we moved in.
- I could care less that it’s your birthday.
- I could care less that you want to see me. Now is not a good time. Maybe never would be a great time.
I know that I am still hurting from the small things. Indiana was cremated on the anniversary of my father’s passing. How appropriate. Kisa brought her home and all I could do was sob uncontrollably. To look at what she had been reduced to you wouldn’t think she was such a large part of my life. Then again, to look at me at that moment you would think I had lost my sole parent. To hear me you would think my world was ending.
Maybe September will always trigger this melancholy in me. Maybe it’s the dying of the leaves, the diminishing daylight. Maybe it’s the closing up and the shutting down that has me this way. Whatever the reason, whatever the cause, I need to kick it in October.