For the life of me, I can't figure out why I feel so run down. The remnants of the annoying respiratory bug I had last month are still hanging around, but I'm coughing far less than I was a week ago. The arrival of the full-fledged Monsoon has me in a pro-Tucson mood. My daughter is having a great summer. And I have been making significant progress towards not only better organizing my "archives," but making smart decisions about what really belongs there and what can be discarded. Despite those positive developments, though, as well as an improved emotional climate in my domestic arena, I just can't seem to build momentum towards the many projects I wish to pursue. Even making regular updates here, which I had promised myself to do more often, has proven inordinately challenging.

Maybe I'm just recovering from all the deferred stress of my mother's hospitalization and subsequent plateauing far short of her pre-injury self. That would make sense. I do feel particularly slow after talking to her and my dad, as if every minute were forcing me to tap into reserve power. Somehow, though, I still want to believe that knowing the source of a problem can be enough to diminish its scope. According to that logic, I should feel restored from having written something this direct about my state of mind. And perhaps I will. Right now, though, my thoughts aren't tending towards further productivity but more of the staring-at-the-screen lethargy that has been plaguing me recently.

Tags: autobiography, everyday, health
Current Location: 85704