eat. sleep. read. repeat.

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eat. sleep. read. repeat.
eat. sleep. read. repeat.
That’s all I’ve done today.
And (for the most part) the day before that.
And I needed it.
A lot.

This Christmas I promised myself I wouldn’t do so much.
We made cookies with friends, but I didn’t make all my traditional snacks.
(We still had plenty anyway).
I pulled everything down from the attic so we could decorate,
but the boxes are still sitting in the garage.
Tree. Lights. Ornaments.
That’s all we did.
Not even a nativity.
We talked about it, of course.
And read books.
But didn’t actually put out any of ours.
And I think that’s okay.
Because we needed less.
Because our days were certainly not less.
We packed in a few field trips for school.
We visited with friend after friend after friend.
We went to see dancing and hear music and play with more friends.
We had Christmas once, twice, and yet again.
We ate and laughed and smiled and loved it all.

Until my self ran out of steam.
Until my brain and body became over-saturated.
And even then it was good,
But I just couldn’t pull myself out of my own head
And really enjoy it.
It’d all gotten too full – my heart, my head, and my senses.
Overwhelmed by too much of a good thing.
I’ve never quite understood how that happens.

So I shut down.
I holed up in my room.
And I slept.
And I read.
And I wrote.
And I colored.
And I let my mind just hide away for a little while,
Draining out in the colors of the rainbow, fast flowing words
And filling up with frivolous stories of fanciful people.
Resting in a world that’s not my own.

And I feel me coming back.
I’m almost ready to slip quietly into life,
Hopefully as quietly as I slipped out.
Picking up where I left off –
With a lot of good and even a little not-so-good.
(Because without one, the other loses meaning).

So here I sit
eating
sleeping
reading
and getting ready for tomorrow.
And it will be good.

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