I’m in bed with my jammies on at 8:35 p.m. thinking of metaphors and imagery to describe the level of fatigue that I’m feeling.  “So tired my hair hurts” comes to mind.  I  put in an hour of adaptive yoga, forty-five minutes of physical therapy directed by the Stern-Mistress herself, and nine hours of pedal-to-the-metal work with not so much as a bathroom break.  My alarm is set for five a.m. so I don’t miss Trial One of Three over the next ten days.

Every once in a while, this happens to my schedule, usually because of continuances.  As careful as I might try to be to guide the trials to big empty spots in a given week, occasionally the Gods and Goddesses of the Bench have other ideas.  I’ll get through but my oh my oh dinosaurs! I’m tired — the kind of tired that in part stems from being a bit disorganized.

But as I settle, mindless television blathering in the background, I contemplate my situation.  I realize that at present, at least, I have a full caseload and clients who are (thankfully) paying promptly.  So I’m tired, but I’m not complaining — I’m just explaining why I can’t seem to see the computer screen or remember my name!!!!

Be well, everyone.  If a few days go by when I don’t reach out to share my joy, know that it shines in your direction without faltering.