I’m working 50 plus hours a week. I have 12 hours of classes. I’ve got readings to do, and assignments. I’ve got to move from place to place, eat occasionally. Oh, and sleep. Sometimes I get to see and talk to my kid, though not enough. We’re both struggling there.
I spend most of my days stressed out, thinking about what else I could be doing, grumpy, tired and stressed.
But underlying all of that is the feeling that I am doing something important. Well, I’m doing one thing that’s important for me and one thing that’s important in general.
Underlying all of that is this feeling that I’m on the cusp of change. I am getting ready to hit bottom and bounce back.
That’s what I feel, just out of reach.
This weekend I actually sort of sat back a bit and tried to figure out what that is, this feeling.
Part of it is that I’ve stopped biting my nails again. I have been biting my nails as badly as when I was a kid for the past few months but last week I put some clear polish on and just stopped biting.
And that got me thinking about stories my mom has been telling me about my dad.
One day he had the idea to start jogging. So he did. On my desk at work I have a picture of him running his first marathon. (Decent inspiration for a too long campaign).
When he was 60 and his doctor told him that he was at risk of a major heart attack unless he changed his lifestyle he did it. He just did.
I have that in my blood, somewhere. I am a Scanlon.
So what is this inkling I have? What’s there, in the bad of my brain? I don’t know yet, but I think I’ll figure it out soon.