Fatigue

Despite the little bastard Enzo and Gracie barking incessantly at 4 in the morning at some unknown noise, sleep came.  It has been raining, nonstop, since early this morning - cats and dogs, frogs and lizards, buckets and pails; a cleansing rain, where everything is flooded, where the light is dim and the heaviness of the air leaves the duties of the day up for grabs.

I spent a portion of yesterday on the phone with three prospective employers, kind of bargaining for greater gains like vacation time, 401K match and money and leading them in a work-from-home-and-still-kick-ass conversation.  I was set on beginning with one company but heard from two others in the meantime. How does this happen?  Why am I obligated to now make some kind of choice?  Truth is, it's just a job.  Just give me one, let me go to work, earn my pay and be done with it - a means to an end, you know?  Now I have to make a choice of some sort and I feel incapable of doing that.  What I would like to do is pack the kids up and find a remote place on the beach - oceanfront - open up a used book store that offers entertainment and book clubs for adults and children and live a simple life. 

Life ain't simple.  No siree.  There's all this baggage, heavy, laden with guilt and fear, leaving simplicity to stand on the roadside and cry as the cart rolls by.  Choices.

What does it matter? 

I chose law school.  That left me in debt and on a path that wasn't meant for me.

I chose to live in Maryland.  That left me homesick for my family and home.

I chose marriage.  That failed.

I chose love.  My heart's broken.

I chose amicability.  I'm still going to court.

I chose to write this blog.  Some asshole claimed harassment and obligated me to defend it before a judge.

It is easy to say, "shoot for the moon, you might land on a star" - but really, life is twisted and the star is bound to fall, hard to the ground, leaving a gaping hole.

On this rainy day, I'd like to slip under the covers, sleep until it stops - the incessant hammering inside my head, the invisible cloudline above the trees, the dashed dreams and hopes, the powerful fears, the mourning, the confusion - and wake knowledgeable and light and sure.

But that ain't life.

I'm not without hope.  I'm not without faith.  I'm certainly not without love. 

I am tired.  Real, real tired.