Lost in thought this morning. Mondays feel both hopeful and overwhelming, especially when I leap from bed and face down the to do list and think: I can beat this monster this week. I will. I have to. But there is always the inkling in the depths of my conscious self that knows full well that it won't happen. That before noon today, I will have lost all sense of possibility and resign myself to another Sunday pep talk about how things should be going in my life.
What is this business with "should" anyway? I can only laugh at the concept when I unpack it at all because "should" is always self-imposed nonsense. It occurs to me that I should be working out more; I should cook at home; I should write; I should study; I should prepare more solidly for my classes. I should want success and the good feeling of a job well done. The problem is where this all ends. Should I feel guilty for ignoring my laptop in lieu of a bubble bath? Or tuning out to complete a jigsaw puzzle? Of course not. But I do.
And I think too much. About everything. What does it mean to be happy in the world? I have to wonder if part of it isn't turning off the television and radio and absorbing moments to oneself more frequently. I always find my center of gravity in the solitude of me time, whether I'm working in silence or simply staring at pieces of a puzzle. I find that my happy place is quite shockingly inside my own head sometimes.
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