I woke up early today. Really fucking early.
I wasn’t sure what had stirred me, but I was acutely aware that for the last 24 hours my brain had been spinning with thoughts. I suspect my sleeping brain had grown tired of manufacturing thinly veiled metaphors for me to dream about, in an attempt to teach me life lessons. Life lessons that I would inevitably disregard when I awoke. Even my own brain has given up on me.
Ours is no fairy tale, no story for the ages,
There's no princes or dragons written on our pages.
You've never killed a beast for me, I don't swoon in a tower,
1. If you cannot concentrate, try not to beat yourself up, and don’t sit there too long either.
Stand up, get a coffee, go for a little walk, put some laundry on, and then come back to whatever you’re trying to focus on with a clearer head.
You know that nightmare where you host a party and no one turns up?
Well, I’m pretty sure that nightmare started with a Facebook event invite. And before you feel sorry for me, don’t. I was being an asshole.
This afternoon something one of my connections posted on LinkedIn caught my eye: it was a link to an article about how eating alone at mealtimes, particularly on Sunday at lunchtime, was one of the key triggers of depression in those struggling with loneliness.
Sometimes life gets in the way, doesn’t it?
Even with the best of intentions, the purest of desires, life can throw you a curveball, and sometimes all your best laid plans can turn to dust in the blink of an eye.