The Shadow Returns

I've had a taste of my old life return. Yesterday was Valentine's Day, which is usually a time for paying attention to the ones you love most. Unfortunately, today is the day I have to make a big presentation to a big customer, and I have been hopelessly distracted, absorbed, and otherwise preoccupied with it. It was almost comical, how I would be in my own world, completely missing the "could I have more milk, please" from the kids, wandering around in a daze while the kids run wild around me. It was an unfortunate reminder of how much of my life was lived that way before. Janet and I had explicitly planned on doing nothing much for V-Day, but still, I wasn't in a frame of mind to be there, and that's a failure. Holidays, it seems, are my built-in reminder device for staying focused on the things that matter . . . which is exactly what they are supposed to be, the reason they were invented in the first place.

But . . . I'm on the wagon. I talked with Harry last night about giving me whatever breathing room he could in our schedule. I went to bed at eleven, which is about as early as I could go to bed without exploding from the tension. I woke up at quarter past 4 am, and decided the extra time was a gift from my subconscious. I will go to my meeting less prepared than I wanted to be, but also less full of big promises to cover up my perceived shortcomings.