People seem comforted by having the lights on, even in the middle of the day. One of my co-workers marvels that I can see without the lights on. I look at a fucking computer screen. They glow. Eventually I'm going to lose it and point out that needing the overhead lights to work on a computer is like using a flashlight to watch TV in the dark.
California's budget deficit is currently $38 billion dollars. The quoted number has grown steadily by a few billion every month.
So tired, so tense, so not relaxed. I think maybe some part of me has already moved closer to work.
It's difficult to set everything aside and let the world be. It's hard for me to believe that if I relax, falling in aikido will be easy and painless. It most definitely is better, and it works every time, but still I have a hard time letting go. That's true with work and relationships, too--I see time and time again how much happier I am and how much smoother everything is if I just let the day take its own course, without judgement or annoyance or desire; but it's not my immediate habit, and I have to focus and remember to settle down. That's been tough this past couple weeks, and I've felt rushed, busy, pressed for time, and stressed. There's no trick to escaping that: just do one thing at a time, moment to moment. In my case I have the advantage of knowing that very little of what I do at work really matters--no one dies if my project slips a day, and if it's honest slippage no one blames me for it--and everything else I do, I do for me, so I get to decide how important it is and how I react to it.
I hope you caught the lunar eclipse last night.