this morning, i slid along to work to the new patrick watson album. most probably the wrong time of this monday for that, as i nearly slipped into dreamland. so, kings of leon it was for the remainder of the drive in.
i'm not even sure what i feel like...
just glad for the noise of hairdryers and the constant twitter of conversations.
it seems to have finally cooled off in this seat of mine where the windows offer a view and a stifling greenhouse effect in the morning.
something's shifted and i feel a bit hollow. a bit fragile. a bit full... though, of what, i'm not exactly sure. i go through these waves of the need to converse, but mostly content to be quiet and work.
content to receive a smile and to be embraced. content to hear kind words. content to flip through the internet's pages of pictures and blogs i've missed.
easy to write.
hard to read.
trying to stay awake.
craving my bed.
separation anxiety from the dogs.
but mostly, just a contented, quieted feeling.
similar to the feeling of being tucked in a blanket on a wintery night.
or drinking your favourite tea and looking out of the window at the rain.
or being held.
and perhaps that's what it is mostly.
i'm simply being held.
now, don't let me go.