chugging the coffee...
which means I pour it and let it cool down a little bit first. Then I gulp it down. I'd say I don't know why I'm so tired but I do know why. It's a combo of:
1) burning up from the inside out--mania(not good) and passion (kind of better than mania)
2) a slight overlay of depression because the finances could be (alotfucking) better
3) change. change is good but it is also really fucking exhausting
4) waiting waiting waiting. this is also exhausting.
5) as usual, carrying the weight of everything around and being unable to Just Let It Go.
6) I could keep going but I'll stop now, simply because it is also depressing to know that I could keep going.

...I'm just tired...
So I'm gulping my coffee this morning. I have a list of things to do that is longer than my arm but I know that today I'll likely not get around to much of anything and I'm (trying to be) cool with that.

I quit punishing myself silently for not quite being able to get around to carving out time in my already overfull schedule for exercise. This is mostly because my office is upstairs and the bathroom is downstairs and I swear I have to pee about every five minutes and this equals out to one hell of a lot of stair action. I figure that's gotta count for something.

My alcoholic father (after severely screwing himself up by thinking he could and failing to keep track of how much cheap whiskey he was drinking) seems to have decided that BEER WAS A GOOD CHOICE. ...because he simply cannot drink enough to get to the blackout stage.
...which is not true, but whatever...
So now he's "back on the wagon" (for the day/hour/minute) and has asked me AGAIN to call him every day and ask him if he's had anything to drink. I tell him I can't do that for him. I tell him that it's screwed up in more ways than one because his alcoholism has so affected my entire life and this forces me to think about THAT every day. I can't and won't. He gets all whiny & begs me to try. I tell him to get a sponsor. (what my quiet voice says is actually, "dude. get a fuckin' sponsor & quit pestering me with this shit already") He says he doesn't think that's an option for him.
...whatever...

It's an odd thing for me to notice that while a majority of my world is in such a completely fucked state of turmoil, that I am also pretty content with things in general. I move from one state to the next without really thinking on it. One second I am better than good and I feel like THIS is where it IS. Where ALL OF IT is. It feels good & very much a coming into ones own... thing. Then the next I am just annihilated by a wave of tsunami like proportion. The second-guessing, the high hopes, the proverbial carrot & the what-ifs--these things just wipe me out & I take two benadryl & I climb into bed and I squeeze my eyes shut tightly & fight to control my breathing and I just pray for sleep to take me...

...someplace else...