My problem is not material, I have plenty to write about. My problem is finding time. In the past week, I have been home long enough each evening or day to sleep or pack or eat or burn some CDs for my road trip or wish I had more time to clean.
I had things going on Thursday and Friday nights, all day Saturday, church on Sunday morning and then packing for my very brief trip to the Deep South, which encompassed a great deal of Sunday and all of Monday. I woke up Tuesday, drove home and went to work until 10pm. Today was a regular 8-5 day, with working out directly after work. This gives me, generally, 7-midnight for "Lana time".
I can't finish books (I'm in the middle of 4 or 5, with four more sitting around waiting to be started). I can't finish my January and February filing. I can't find time to clean, to cook, to sit around and relax. I'm moving from the moment my snooze rings for the third time until I crash into bed around midnight every night.
I keep looking ahead, wondering when my rest will come. And I think I'm going to have to pencil it in. Seriously. That's ridiculous.
Today as I rummaged around my pantry for something sweet, I found the box of chocolates that Emily gave me for Christmas. Yep, it's still here. How is that possible? I grabbed one and popped it in my mouth, only to stop mid-chew.
The taste was familiar, yet distant. I bit down again, scanning through my memory for what this related to. Something good. Something I enjoy...or did, at one time.
Got it! Peanut Butter. I was eating peanut butter.
Now, as I've sworn off of this stuff for good reason (something to do with internal all-consuming itching, external swelling and redness, and more recently, pains in my chest), it's been at least a year since I've tasted this, my favorite food.
But I couldn't stop. It was that good. I ate it.
Thirty minutes later, I sit here itching. And hoping my allergy or intolerance or whatever it is, allows me to keep working.
Little tastes of heaven. Someday I will eat peanut butter to my heart's content. *sigh
Oh, for that day.
3 comments:
By "heaven" do you mean "Italy," and by "my heart's content" do you mean "because we've overdrawn our bank accounts and can't afford food AND the flight home"?
Because if so, then you've got it, baby!
I love that every time I think of peanut butter, I immediately remember the entire trip to Italy. Thus, you, and our best, craziest adventure ever. I miss you so much, Elaine. May is not soon enough to see you. Ugh.
So, uh, sorry about the allergic-y Christmas present. I didn't pick it out 'specially to kill you with. I din't know it had peanut butter ones in there...
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