Worn Down

I landed on the New York side of the Alleghenny Reservoir last night. I have been having rotten luck in finding accomodations in this neighborhood. Not much of a surprise. It is a wilderness preserve, after all, and my take off from Texas was not organized enough to include camp gear.

I felt off all day yesterday. Not quite sick but not all there, either. This morning finds me still lacking in strength, energy and focus. The grey drizzle outside the hotel window is far from inspiring. The night's rent on that window was on the expensive side of my travel budget, but my urge is to say, "Fuck the budget. It's cheaper than an ER visit." My senses are urging preventative measures of extra rest and self-care.

What a strange trip this has been. . . It still feels far more like a grieving pilgrimage than a research trip. Hubs inserted the word, "Discernment" into the dialog a week or four ago. I have always thought of "Discernment" as a process by which young adults find their niche in life, but I find it appealing to my current phase, also. Young I ain't, but it is quite likely I have a good many years left to live. A great deal of my current wonder is about what to do with the rest of my life. "Discernment" fits on many levels.

Sorting. . . Think I'll read about it on the back of my eye-lids. I have 4 hours until check-out time. This is usually my high energy time of day and right now I find myself too tired to move willingly.

The town I am currently sitting in is Falconer. Somehow the name has me reliving the day the falconer came out to the survey site on hubby's investment property to teach her rescued hawk how to hunt for himself. It was a good day.