i am starting to feel the exhaustion already. and it's only november 2. i can feel it in a sagginess under my eyes. ears feel ringy and hypersensitive. brain fuzzy.
yesterday i counseled then had a meeting then counseled again. then errands errands errands then home to write for a few hours and crash.
today i teach a class then run 12 miles then write for a few hours then the fred frith show in oakland then...? die? i don't know. there are simply not enough hours for everything i want to do. there never have been really, but now the disconnect is so hugely obvious.
remind me...what the hell was i thinking? and why does my novel insist on being something i didn't want it to be? i think it's going to suck. i really do.