The end of the year is, really, an illusion, I know. The days and the days just keep coming, one after another. Without watches, without calendars, our only reference points would be the weather, or the stars, or the migration of the birds.
Yet, the illusion of orderly changes created by the watches and calendars is very compelling. So, at the “end” of this “year,” I find that I’m exhausted.
As in so many confessions of my weakness or fatigue, I feel stupid admitting. My fatigue is nothing compared to that experienced by others with really tough lives...refugees, immigrants, the homeless. Hell, one of my staff, a temp, works two jobs just to support herself and her daughter.
Regardless, I’ve had to admit I’m worn out. The commute to work is wearing enough in good weather. During the winter, add snow shoveling, ice scraping, and chain installation, along with the increased attention and stress of driving icy roads, and there goes more energy.
That’s just one example, and it’s enough. I had to acknowledge that I was tired all the time, for whatever reason. So I’ve decided I’m not going to do anything for the rest of the year. Okay, that’s only another four or five days. But I hope my enforced idleness will let me recharge a bit, and then I can face the New Year with renewed energy and enthusiasm.
I’ll be back then, with my promised piece on “Magic and Empty Suits,” as well as continuing Doubly Standard Procedure watch.
Be well.
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