*i wake to sleep and take my waking slow*

-theodore roethke

one:

last night i sat in bed long after my benny fell asleep. half-watching "a funny thing happened on the way to the forum" and half-lost in the adventurous backroads of my mind. thinking and rethinking millions of possibilities and coincidences and happenstances. you know, how we get where we are and all that. what's next. and what then. but not in that suffocating way that seems so easy. it was like i was gently flying through these thoughts. as if thoughts were cottony clouds. amidst blue sky. it was pleasant. peaceful. i could feel my body growing heavier, sleepier, but fought it. feeling so good in the moments of night-sky and moonlight. as soon as i clicked off the tv our room was washed in that soft white glow and it seemed to rock me to sleep.

but today i feel sleepy. overwhelmed. or drowsy. every word seems like work today.
every nicety.
every breath.

my to-do list seems unimportant. my eyes are helplessly small. my brain scatters, then tries to refocus, recapture some semblance of focus. and here i am. treading in sleepy circles. circling.

two:

i have been reading a lot of blogs lately. blogs about lives that seem so delightfully simple although i know they are not. but lives filled with things like tulips and time for homecooked meals and cobblestone streets. don't get me wrong, my motivation to make spaghetti and meatballs for us last night was quite impressive. but it didn't fill the house with any wonderfully delicious smells. we didn't even have garlic bread. and i forgot to wear my apron. so i just don't feel like it counted for much.

and there are all of these people who blog about recipes. and cooking. and dashes of spices. and pinches of goodness. and inspiration. and flour-speckled countertops.

i can barely measure out water.

oh, sigh. i think what this day needs is some good poetry. food for my brain. deliciousness for my soul. and the warm fullness of digesting someone else's beautiful words...