I'm sitting at my desk at 11:18 p.m. on my day off, watching the blinking red message light. Like skipped-over e-mails, it'll have to wait 'til tomorrow when I'm officially on the clock. But there's no such thing, I suppose, as "officially on the clock" when you're a reporter, when you live the life I do.
Class let out early tonight before the sun had even gone down. And in a fit of excitement I made it home early and came into the newsroom to write a nomination I'd promised to write. The deadline's tomorrow, you see, and I've been too busy lately to even sleep. (I wake up exhausted every morning to start the marathon again.)
Everything is so forward-reaching and inspiring for me right now, and yet it is also difficult and complicated. I have a tendency to crawl inside myself when things get overwhelming or when they go wrong so I apologize for the silence and selfishness while I cope.
There's so much more going on than anyone knows, than anyone will ever know, and that is my burden. And I will bear it.
And I will write cryptic e-mails about it from my desk at 11:23 p.m., sitting at my desk on my day off.
1 comment:
And those who care will hope your burdens are lifted, or at least lightened, even if they don't know what those burdens are.
And those who love you will love you for who you are, cryptic or loquacious.
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