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The weather is so weird. Months of winter drought in the SF Bay Area, then storm after storm after storm, bringing rainfall totals above average for Northern California. Meanwhile, Southern California and Arizona are experiencing unprecedented drought, with 141 days since the last rainfall in Phoenix, AZ.
Today came a hard hail, followed by a peculiarly loud whomp-booom-thwunderrr-brmmm which was either a military aircraft or alarming rolls of thunder. Then two different bright flashes of light, neither followed by thunder.
Is this a nuclear strike, the end of time? Or do I just want time to end? I am in a horrid funk. I have transitioned from beloved, to love-less. From goal-oriented, to no goals at all. I see no reason to get up in the morning. For the first time, one's inevitable death seems not so fearsome. Laying down the burdens of the world, which holds few charms for me.
I want my youthful zest, but little holds zest for me now. Everyone needs to find meaning in life. The only goals to which I currently attach meaning, are growing my hair back out, and reading books.
My hair fell out in large quantities during my divorce. Thankfully, it did not all come out. Some of my lovely long locks remain. And the new hair is finally growing in, giving me dishevelled bangs that perhaps even look nice. Growing this short hair down to my waist is a goal, and a four-year goal at that. Long live the follicle!
I had trouble concentrating and reading during my divorce. Thankfully, I have regained the ability to hold complicated plots in my head. I read Michael Crichton's Fear, and the first of Philip Jose Farmer's Riverworld series, and now I am embarking on The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco. Reading books once held great charm, and now that I am again able to read, catching up with the literary world gives me a tangible goal.
Goals. Life. Unsettling weather.
~goddess