In
as in IN over my head.
I wrote recently, a short poem called I’m done. It came at the end of a long struggle about my place, about being called to be what I am and do what I’m doing and it was a relief to have it settled in my head and my heart.
But I didn’t count on finding myself even further at the end of that rope or to find myself looking up the ladder again wondering where it all went so horribly wrong.
Should I be surprised? It isn’t really as though I haven’t looked up before and seen the sky come falling down.
I can’t pretend I’m not affected by both the flu that seems to be bearing down on me and the yawning emptiness of my house without that darn cat, but I had one too many emails today that makes me and my work redundant and so, once again.
I’m done.
CALL ME anytime for a chat babe, you know I’ll understand … or better yet (if you weren’t already heading off) you could get on a plane, also anytime … can’t offer a replacement kitty but can offer a mad puppy dog who’d slobber on you … and probably far too much red wine and cheese … and we’d even organise margarita’s for you :)
Poor Dee. Virtual hugs and all things good!
Hah, Lis. I got online looking at airfares to your neck of the woods today… If they’d have been as cut price as promised I’d have been there tomorrow.