Over the last week, I’ve been excited about the direction things seem to be going. I feel clearer and more effective; and I’ve been almost buoyant over the sense of improvement. At night, when I lie down, sleep eludes me the way it did on Christmas Eve when I was little. My brother and I would be tucked into twin beds whispering to each other about what we thought the morning would bring. The anticipation made the excitement harder to contain and morning seem further away.
It’s been fun to feel like that again.
But today it feels like a balloon escaped my grasp and I’m standing on the sidewalk watching it shrink smaller and smaller. What a bummer.
It’s not a huge deal. It’s just more fun to be waiting for Santa.