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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books.php/entry_id/830638
Rated: 13+ · Book · Biographical · #1317094
Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills.
#830638 added October 9, 2014 at 4:46pm
Restrictions: None
No time to rest. I'll be dead...
...a long long time.

Me:

So worn out. Happened last year at this time too... or was that the last two years?

The Montana Festival of the Book is about to begin and I need to be focused and twinkle-toed to get to events. And I have no energy.

Like today... just want to take a nap.

Weather is lovely. Color-change under blue skies. Brilliant.

And me?

Not so bright.

I did manage to apologize to a friend, but he didn't know why I was apologizing so I let it go. And my sister called (she never calls) to tell me our mother was in hospital (medication screw-up). I talked to a cousin and managed to call my aunt without her sensing something was wrong with her sister (gold star for that; there'll be time to call and explain this weekend).

All of this drained me.

Oh, I did get to a couple gatherings this week. Not today. I may not even go this evening when my writing group gathers... and I should.

No physical energy and emotionally I'm whack.

And I'm yawning...
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books.php/entry_id/830638