Energetically Empty

Whirling in a whirlpool of whirls

Today is my only day off this week. Last week I worked 45 hours. When my employer, who isn’t a company but a person (I work as a nanny) asked me if I wanted the overtime, I tried not to seem so enthusiastic that I expressed desperation. Overtime? My credit card debt looms. My student loans. I would work 50 hours a week if I could. I do, with my writing, for which I often don’t get paid.

I told myself I wouldn’t do anything on my day off. Let myself off the hook. The hook is a voice in my head that says go. It’s still here, saying go. I am going, despite a headache and a deep sadness at the recent loss of a special person in my sphere of being. (You can donate to his partner’s GoFundMe).

I woke up thinking of Anthony, and of the cohort of beautiful people that surrounded him at our MFA program at Syracuse. If it were regular life I’d be buying a plane ticket to see them, and we could be together, to comfort one another. But nothing is regular. Anthony’s book will come out this summer, …