June 25, 2001
I’ve been living moment to moment lately. Actually, let me rephrase that – I’ve been living hectic moment to hectic moment.
I’m moving in two weeks, in the meantime I’m packing like mad and then going crazy because I can’t find something. My husband has started school in the evenings again after being out for two years, and now I have to make that adjustment. I have overseas guests coming in two weeks. I have deadlines approaching for writing, I have cleaning to take care of, errands to run, household bills to catch up on. I’m writing in what little time I have but it doesn’t seem like I’m writing anything good – my brain seems too fried.
I feel like I’m so overloaded, so busy with “things” that all I want is some quiet, some time to myself, some time to discover art again. I feel like I need one week by myself somewhere on some kind of artist escape. I want to devote nothing but time to reading, to learning, to playing, tow writing. I want to spend a few days with some other artist just to connect so I won’t feel alone. I want some time away from reality, just to get myself grounded.
Wouldn’t that be wonderful.