Sometimes I'm not sure if I write here for the benefit of others or merely as self-therapy. Both, probably. The latter definitely. I'm having trouble sleeping (again) and as I flip through my old blog entries, I see that's an old trend of mine---sleepless blogging. Scary thought, and yet here I go again.
My tired mind is caught up in four topics tonight.
1: The inescapable aging of my two adorable boys (2.5 & 7 months) and myself (I have a deep wrinkle between my eyebrows now).
2: My inability to strive for A) a deeper spiritual relationship with God, B) consistent workouts at the gym, C) increased romance, service, and respect for my dear husband.
3: The ache in my chest at the prospect of going to work tomorrow.
4: The friendships that keep evaporating and the ones that can't seem to take root. The emotionally marinated layers of my mind are so obsessed with self-prognosis that they never stop and laugh at the garish face if it all.
Too tired to make this silly post resolve in any meaningful way so I'll just end it here, the rabbit hole with no earthy floor. Now back to playing with Justin's hair while he snores.