I've been overturning pillowcases and randomly flung sweaters, looking for my perspective.
I seem to have misplaced it somewhere, and there's this moat of despair trying to drive it's way up my nostrils and straight for my lungs again.
It started with driving home from sushi last night, a good climbing night, I did okay, I did better than the last few times. Not by much, but by a little.
And we were talking. We'd just been talking about Everquest, and I was missing it.
Then Dave and Allie started talking work, talking bad situations, and for some reason my already nervous spirit started shaking.
And continutes to shake into today.
All my plans, places to call, emails to write, cover letters that I was dreading to bullshit into glory -- I can't find them. My ideas, motivation, I ran out sometime around eleven this morning.
And tonight is a night out with friends, and Tuesday and Wednesday and THursday already mapped out, there will be hugs flying and smiles flapping in the warm air.
Still, right now I am shaking, furious, angry at the barest movement.
I am angry and inflexibility, I am angry at suppositions, I am angry at small minds, but worse still --
I am angry at the large ones as well.
This will pass, I know, and tomorrow I will find my perspective lying haphazard and a little bruised under the pile of post-party recycling, and I will realize that in ten years I will be so far from this hole that looking back on it I will fondly think of the strength my gritted teeth radiated into me.
Right now, though, oh right now, I can't seem to find the right path out.
All these walls are 5.13s to me, and my climbing shoes are worn away at the toes.
And my harness is flapping in the great gust of cold air, buckles broken.
I'm just waiting for the seratonin to hit, there's chocolate in the cupboard downstairs and climbing down should be just a little less difficult than climbing up right now.