I am suddenly, inexplicably, busy. It's been a good sort of busy -- I've been meeting old friends, juggling jobs, pushing myself, going places -- but I sometimes find myself pining for the three-hour siestas of old. Power naps are totally not my thing. I down 2 cups of coffee a day nowadays, instead of just one, and that makes me a little sad. I much prefer to think of myself as a laid-back, hammock-by-the-beach sort of person.
I wouldn't change a thing, though. Discomfort can be good for the soul (or so I'm told).
And, anyway, I feel like I have no right to complain. There are people who do far more for far less. Life has been good to me. A lot of doors have been opened, and I feel like the least I can do is push at each one and see where it leads.
Today, two friends and I had coffee with a former teacher, and he told us he was really glad that we had found our place under the sun. Well, we haven't yet, I think. Not totally. But we're getting there, slowly but definitely, and that possibility is worth a whole lot of siestas.