Juggle

Strange what time does, how it compresses under the pressure of intense activity, or stretches between the empty spaces. How fast ten hours can disappear, but leave the feet just as certain more than a dozen hours of running must've passed.

I want to be asleep, but it all hurts so much, and my mind is whirling. We were hard pressed today, and I was the resource for all the rooms. More than five and a half miles recorded by pedometer, all in fits and starts, not counting the standing, or what heavy item I was pushing at the time.

D massaged my back after I did my exercises, which seems to have helped immensely. I brush away the accretions, the archeology dig into the pain. Hard not to obsess, hard to talk about anything else, and I don't want to talk about hurting. This has taken over my life. Ah. This is why I hid it all from myself so long, such a temptation, to sweep it all behind and ignore it.

But I feel good about the work I did today, about being really useful, and all the plates stayed spinning.