I logged 56 hours this week. It’s been twelve days since I took a whole day off. I’m on top of my game.
Or not.
Yes, I know that some folks work like this routinely, but I can’t. If ever I could, at age 61 I can no longer.
On my breaks, I find that I have no idea what to do with my time. Having been absent from my life for what seems like forever, I no longer know what it should look like. It isn’t only a question of the time, of course, but also the intensity. Always working against a deadline, trying to respond Now when a writer needs help Right Now – it takes a toll.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tools for thee.
– John Donne, No Man is an Island
So here I am, slightly less than fully with it, hoping to recover enough today to be able to perform tomorrow.
There’s something wrong with this picture, but I can’t quite make it out.