3.30 am ramblings

3.30 am. Not sleeping. Have been awake a long time. Tried deep breathing, Reiki, taken more Bach's remedy.

You know when the weather is really, really hot and people look up at the sky each day, wondering when it's going to break. That's what it feels like for me at the moment - every day, I think, this might break tonight. The thought makes me so happy I almost forget to feel so terrible.

It is, Andy tells me and I tell myself, a 'blip'. And blips, I suppose, can last anywhere from a night or two to a.....fortnight? Who knows. There's no rules in this game.

It's very dark outside but the birds have started to sing away outside. I wonder how much sleep birds need? Or any animals for that matter.

What I would love; what I would really, really love is for inspiration to suddenly strike. To think of a more creative way out of this scrambled egg mess of constant exhausation I've dug myself into. Because that's what I've been thinking recently - that the only thing that's going to save me from this is creativity; thinking of something truly new. That's what makes me smile during the day when I'm feeling terrible: reading something that touches the right side of my brain; Maya saying something with the beautiful wonder of a three year old (yesterday: Mummy, the clouds are chasing us); sitting down at the piano and as my fingers stoke the familiar old keys, feeling a tension release within me.

I wish I could feel this calm and resigned first thing in the morning. Really, I feel fine now. There have been a lot of tears in the mornings recently. I put my head against the kitchen cupboard and one fat teardrop falls into my tea - splosh - and once the first has come it's hard to stem the rest and there they are, on the counter top - splosh - on my spoon - splosh - and into my cereal - splosh splosh - and I wonder if they'll make the milk taste salty.

Anyway, enough words from me. Over and out. I shall head upstairs and meditate and see what that brings.