Once again, I’m sitting in my office with all the same old mundane sounds—hot water heater fan, hum of air conditioning, and chatter of people in the “big room.” I’m hypnotized by it all and it feeds “quiet desperation.” I am not fully awake yet not sleeping, pushing through the malaise of Friday, and cannot wait to come to life away from here. Spending most of our time in this situation leads to bizarre behavior—pushing back, grasping at perceived control, trying to manage the unmanageable.
Last night I dreamed I was climbing down a waterfall, trying to fight the push of the flow, not wanting to be swept to the bottom. I wanted to reach that point on my own terms. However, in the light of day, I’m not sure why I was headed to the bottom. Was it my choice of direction?

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