D and I finally managed to dismantle the Christmas tree yesterday afternoon. I always think it's sad to undress the tree and put away the ornaments. But if we left it up all year it wouldn't be special. We made spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. The meatballs were from scratch and they were so good. I love Italian food.
Finished off two more books this weekend so my tally for the year is now 6.
Haven't slept for two nights now. I hope this is not my new schedule: three night up, two nights down. I usually have my insomnia spells in the summer, not the winter. My mind is too busy. I wrote a little this morning, first time since November. I haven't really felt like writing since then although I have been mulling some scenes over in my mind. Maybe I can get back into the swing of it again. I don't know if it's the writing, the creativity, that's keeping me up or not. Sometimes it does. Or it might be that devotional book I just finished. It gave me several things to chew on. Maybe I'm like Jacob who stayed up all night wrestling with an angel. Only I don't feel like I'm wrestling. I don't feel anything but discontent. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing with my life. I don't know what purpose God has for me. I feel like I'm just hanging out, waiting for something to happen, killing time. Like the Israelites in the desert for 40 years. I especially feel it at work but it's not like I can make a change in this kind of job market. Maybe I can't rest because I'm wandering around lost in this mental quagmire. Yes, I think that's the problem. Busy, busy, busy little brain.
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