As today wore on, I wore out.  Meaning, I felt ok at Rachel’s house this morning, felt a little less ok at Aunt Betty’s, felt bad lying down for a nap this evening, and felt like I had the flu when I woke up.  Throat stuffed with gravel, tonsils three times their normal size, every muscle aching.  I hobbled around making eggs and putting on Princess Bride, and then laid very still and very miserable for a while.  (“Fezzik, tear his arms off.”)  Marshall was off doing more exciting things so Amanda went to Walgreens to get Airborne (and by that I mean “Wal-born”) for me.  Good news: am feeling better now.  Bad news: tried to sleep, and couldn’t.

People that graduated with me are now done with their MAs.  When Katie J was here, I told her how discouraged I was about writing, and she understood.  And gave me a steadying hand.  She is a dear, dear friend of mine.  I think I’m not going to be able to “wait until I’ve got my finances stable” to think about writing.

If only I could get away for a week, to a distant place, with Marshall maybe, to a cliff overlooking the Blue Ridge Mountains or a campsite halfway up some lonely mountain.  Where you can wake up, get up and make coffee, sip it with the birds and the sounds of the wind in the trees, and there you are both with God and with the clamoring heart.  Your old friends’ faces, their fossilized familiar gestures, the faint whiffs of grief and happiness from childhood.  At that place, at that time, with Marshall still sleeping in the tent and me up with coffee, looking out over those wrinkled hills, at that moment I will remember how to write.  I’ll remember what it feels like to have loose ends tied up, a sense of relief take over from a sense of panic.

It is unbelievable to have good friends.  Absolutely unbelievable.  Katie J is there, has got that down.

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