Work last week was a screen with scrolling letters, a downhill rollercoaster. Work last week was a to-do list with the do's bleeding off the page but no time to write the to-do list down on a sheet of lined paper, my heart was racing the most of it, I didn't relax, well I relaxed when I spoke to the high school students I tracked down over 3 campuses, whom I needed to help (everybody knows it's not helpful when the person who is helping you is having a panic attack). I worked overtime, and when I got off work I was thinking of the next day, the next morning, what I needed to get done. So when the weekend arrived, early on Thursday, it didn't feel over. The weekend felt like an escape, into you, into relaxation, into in-love and in-the-mountains. Now that I am back in real life, home in West Oakland, woken from the dream of just-us, no cellphone and no smog, I need to face this anxiety head-on. I need to get happy for work. I need to chill the fuck out. I cannot see my weekends as freedom, and I cannot treat my time with you as a comfort blanket, thrown over shit I gotta take care of. I'm gonna do some meditating. I'm gonna figure out how I can start relaxing. I'll let you know what the I'Ching tells me.
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