State of Obvious

Call it a product of lots of work and little time, or maybe classes which all seem to share threads despite being almost wholly unrelated, but lately I've been thinking a lot about how powerless I am in my own skin. I talk too much. Or maybe it's powerful .  I am powerful in my own skin .  I can do things, be things, try things.  I don't have to do it for anyone but me.  I don't have to do it unless I want to.  I can look at the map and choose the road and see where it goes.  And be okay even if I get turned around. I am a bonafied know-it-all. It's funny.  I haven't noticed myself getting older.  It just sort of happened.  Snuck up while I was napping.  Little spots on the back of my hands, wrinkles around my mouth, gray hair.  I've settled into my thirties, somehow, just in time to get ready to leave them.  Mid-way, mid-life, mid-me.  I'm not excited about forty in four years, but it's coming anyhow.  Coming quick, filling up the blurry lin

How do you feel?  Facebook keeps asking me that like it is a living, breathing person who cares.  Silly facebook, I know you're not real.  But still. I feel overwhelmed.  I have so much to do and not enough hours in the day.  If I sleep in (which I did), I scrutinize those minutes and wonder if they are wasted.  If I watch TV, play a game, do nothing, I feel like I'm running behind. I am too busy. But not too busy for facebook to keep asking me how I'm doing. I guess that's ironic. Or it's just that I need to sometimes come up for air.  For pause.  For full stop (like this weekend when I ran around California with my sister and ate lots of In-n-Out.  It was good, the burgers and the running and especially my sister.) I felt refreshed, and then I pushed play. And now - how do I feel? Overwhelmed.  There are not enough hours in the day.  If I sleep - well, why don't we find out?