Throw me a lifeline

I'm awakened at 6:10 this morning by an overactive mind. I cannot go back to sleep. I lie in bed for 20 minutes before proceeding to the kitchen for some toast with margarine and coffee. The coffee tastes like water but i gulp it down anyway. I'm going to need it.

I put on my earphones and leave for work. I walk for twenty minutes, checking my watch every two minutes to figure out how late i'm going to be. I reach the house five minutes past the time i was supposed to be there. Not bad at all.

I spend eight hours with two little kids, one with an upset tummy and another who doesn't enjoy quiet time. The cat throws up a couple of times before coming to lie on my lap to listen to me make up stories about a princess stuck in a tower with only peanut butter sandwiches and juice and a prince who comes to her rescue, bringing along pizza, rice and vegetables. At a quarter to four, the kids' mum gets home. I put on my earphones and leave for home. Gratefully.

The 20 minutes i take to walk back seem like eternity. But i finally reach my destination.

I put the kettle on and proceed to take a shower- a long, hot one. I stand under the water, hoping it'll take away some of the tension from my upper back. Meanwhile, the bathroom starts to resemble a sauna. I get out hastily.
I get changed into my shorts and large t-shirt, put my hair up and make a cup of coffee. I sit down on the kitchen stool, with my hands wrapped around my mug and take my first sip. Oh bliss. I reach for the cookie jar and eat a biscuit. Or three.

I look out the window and see how the leaves on the plant sway gently in the wind. I watch as darkness descends upon us.
I don't move. There's something spiritual about the whole moment. I listen...

And then i take out my book and start to write.