Wine; too much of that was tasted last night.
This morning greets me with a stone head that reverberates with the shifting of tectonic plates.
The weekend is upon us. My wife is wearing panda eyes as she sleeps. Again there is nothing kinky or animalistic about this, her panda eyes are a mask that shuts out the morning sun. Bacchus was between us, sleeping off our conquest of another week. Because of him, I awoke needing water and aspirin. And here I am, at the computer, telling the world.
This week has seen a few moments of contentment.: my forgotten novel has been revived (so far there is only one small section that disappoints me, and that will be rectified this weekend); I eased up with my need to be seen to be a good teacher and found that I was funny again; I contacted an old and lost friend and in doing so may have opened up contact with another; I found that I had a few old traits left over from the preburnout me (they’re not good but they’re not bad either); instead of anxiety for my new chapters in life, I found hope and adventure.
Back to the beginning, I found myself reading my discovered writing and experiencing the joy I feel when I am reading real writer’s novels and marvelling at their craft and storytelling.
I’ll drink to that.