Seems like an eternity trip. And yet a third of it is over. 

Why do we wish time away? 

I asked Conrad, on the first weekend here, if this was our last weekend, what would he fill it with? What would he do?

He said I’m overly dramatic. Still, we are not taking things in with the awe of our first visit. Everything is meh. We are tired. We are overwhelmed. And we are not allowing ourselves to feel all these less pleasant feelings. We want to rush to the excitement and so we forget to be fully present. 

We would probably do just the same things but with more appreciation. The first day has 24 hours much like the last day. 

I have been off the radar in the house and outside the house. Sweet rest from it all. I have been reading a book about writing that has inspired me to look at all my memories and imagine how I would put them into stories. That is all I have been working on. And recovering slowly from Covid of course. 

I have enjoyed this zoning out. More than I thought or would care to admit. Daydreaming. Praying slowly, meticulously, like Wurmbrand in prison during the night I was too uncomfortable to sleep. Ah, to have time. What luxury. Uninterrupted by other people’s words or requests. Only more awakened by aches and pains.