Everything grows bigger as you approach it. Buildings get taller. Lanes seem wider. The only exception to this rule is the sky. When you're in it, the sky has a finite quality to it. Like you could meet a friend for a drink on cloud nine, and then head down the street and around the corner to 7th heaven, as though they shared the same area code.
I'm starting to get the sense that I've jumped back into work too soon. Or that I at least shouldn't have jumped in with two hands and two feet. But what was the alternative? Which road do you take when all of them potentially lead to another hospital visit or admission to the psych ward? And then I look down at my arm and my tattoo and realize, I'm doing exactly what I ought to be doing. And that is, pushing forward, regardless of damaged spirit or feeble health.
All the things around me are starting to feel so big. I'm losing perspective again. I absolutely must get a grip on how I want to see things, and what I want to make of them.
I almost forgot to pull down my pants when I went to take a piss tonight after work. This is not a good sign. But at least I've recognized it now before all is behind me and I'm looking back with resentment.
On a positive note: The film wraps soon and I'll be out of Ottawack for a vacation. Hello sunshine, I've missed you.
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