Weary

Feeling so tired, can’t understand it
Just had a fortnight’s sleep
I’m feeling so tired, I’m so distracted
Ain’t touched a thing all week.

"Bitch"
The Rolling Stones

On some level -- mostly a rational one -- I know that the sun also rises and everything will and does work out. I'm optimistic that the glass is half-full, and I know that things are far better than they seem.

Doesn't change the fact that I feel like I'm in a boxing ring with 12 different opponents taking turns hitting me, despite this omnipresent, unrelenting daze.

Okay, before I sound like one of those people we all know who constantly bemoan life whether it's good or bad, I'll stop what sounds like self-pity in its tracks. I'm far from depressed, and even without Thanksgiving two ticks on the calendar away from being here, it's still a monumental collection of stuff I've been handling. Aside from the personal/family stuff -- which is really far better than it could be -- I'm also buried with work, and there just aren't enough hours in a day. I've used that expression before, but never before have I meant it more or understood what others meant when they used same.

It's almost like being an insomniac in a hotel room in suburban Lincoln, Nebraska, with only Popeil Informercials on TV for entertainment.

Speaking of insomnia, for the most part, what I've noticed during this expanse is that I haven't been able to sleep for more than four or five hours a night. I'm not complaining -- I've got plenty of shit to keep me occupied 24-7. My apartment, as Kaia once opined, is like Mission Control -- so between the PC, a home theater system with 800 DVD's, 9,000 CD's and a cavalcade of other time-wasting choices, all I really want is to have everything go back to where it was. The question is, where was it? How far back can I go?

If I could, I'd go back to about four years ago and erase everything. That would mean I could have avoided an example of dysfunction and human pathos and never had to deal with any of those whackos. My dad would not have spent five months in a hospital and we could have spent the last Thanksgiving enjoying life, not merely being thankful for it. My mom would not have had to endure everything she did, and neither my sister nor I would have had to come face-to-face, personally or work-wise, with everything we did.

However -- and there's always that major caveat -- life happens. Shit happens. And there's no "Undo" button in real life. Things move forward, despite our desire to keep them static. So in this situation, we each had to face what was happening -- whether it was on our schedule or not -- and there's not much we could do about that. In truth, things could have been lots worse -- although looking back on it, I'm not sure how much worse. And the bright spot is that I extricated myself from a lifetime of misery and wound up with someone who makes me smile on a regular basis. So I'm not really complaining.

I guess, especially given the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday, that I've learned on some level that life is absolutely chronological; you can't be here unless you've been there. And like that Jim Carrey movie, Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, things happen in sequence. So does learning. I could have erased all the pain and misery, then and now, and I'd lose the ability to appreciate and be as thankful as I am for my family, my friends, Kaia, and what I have.

Essentially, I think it boils down to this: even when I feel like I don't wanna get out of bed, and when it all seems like it's just too much, I know how good it really is, even when it's not great. That reminds me of an album I saw the other day -- not sure by whom -- called "Even The Bad Times Were Pretty Good." And as much as I know these days are difficult, long and sometimes grueling, exhausting and exasperating, I also can't rightfully bring myself to describe these days as bad. I think, for the most part, that whether I'm naive or just too damn optimistic, I have it pretty good, and even when each day is a collection of long, painful phone calls involving situations over which I have no control, I know -- somehow -- that tomorrow will be as good, if not better, than today.

And that feels pretty good.