...but I am really, really tired. And a leetle bit blue. I'd say I was glad Rick was coming in a couple of weeks -- and I am, don't get me wrong -- but I know that he's going to be completely worn out when he arrives because he's been taking care of getting the house ready to sell, so it's not as though I'm going to get a whole lot of relief.
Moving is just extremely stressful, I guess. There's a reason it shows up on psychiatric questionnaires.
I have awakened on several mornings in a near panic, feeling as though there were just no way I was going to be able to face students. It's not as though they're particularly difficult to deal with, it's just the stress getting to me. Paralyzing stress, coupled with aching loneliness and absolutely NO time to myself, not ever. I can't bring myself to paint or play the piano because I'm dogged with thoughts of other things that simply MUST be done.
I'm hoping this stage will be over soon, though. I'll keep pressing forward, assuming that to be true, pretending I see the light at the end of the tunnel in hopes that I eventually will.
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