Under a blackened sky
Far beyond the glaring streetlights
Sleeping on empty dreams

My alarm clock was piercing this morning. As I was driving out of my driveway, I rolled up my window and the great jungle noises of the woods were zipped into nothingness. The gravel made loud pings in the undercarriage of my car as I approached the main road to turn left for my trek to work. My eyes are puffy. The edges of my nostrils are chapped. My head is ringing with a pound of my heart. I have an emotional hangover. I hate those. They are not nearly as bad as the real thing; however, it is just the aftermath of a crying jag, as Betty would say. The real hangover would leave me with muscle aches, vomiting and the shakes, but today I can go to work, say a prayer, take two Tylenol and in a half hour, be fine. The real hangover had only one cure: another drink. I have had a plentiful week since the last time I wrote yet am not sure that I could get it all out on the page. It is not that I have abandoned my status as a blogger, I have just been overwhelmingly busy to a point that I lost it in the last 24 hours of my life (It being my sanity). I cried for two hours last night. Apparently, this happens when I don’t take care of myself emotionally. Sobeit. I talked for some time with Michelle, then with Debbie and then with Jane. All of these and more are the women who heal my soul. I am grateful. I had more phone calls to return, unfortunately, the pumpkin hour rose quickly and sleep was required. God blessed me as I fell into the arms of the still, quiet peace of my yellow apartment with green plants. I don’t think I will ever go this long with out writing again.