at the end of every day, it turns out that I have just enough.  just enough energy to do all the things I have to do.  just enough patience to help a little person who has lots of energy and lots of emotions all day long. I get just enough sleep to wake up on Beijing time to tutor my students.  there is not a lot of me left over. but having only a tiny plate of leftovers above being actively burnt-out.

I don’t quite know what to do with the leftovers.

it’s naptime. what can I do with my leftovers in an hour? most days I just take a long hot shower.  drink a of cup of tea.  sit in the quiet and soak it up.  spend some time daydreaming of things I could do with a few more leftovers.  I want to write.  I have writing goals and deadlines.  but I can’t sit down and write without having logged a few hours of mental prepwork beforehand…and I can’t do that mental work during my days.  for that kind of thinking, I need emptiness.  and all day long I am plugged into everybody else’s thoughts and feelings and needs. there is no space in my head for thoughts of my own.

some days I have more left over.  like Mondays, when I get to drive to my dance class and spend two hours alone in my car.  just thinking. and my stories fall together…but then it’s hard to keep momentum going on a story you can only dream about one night a week. 

lately all my leftovers belong to the little fellow.  thinking about labor.  practicing breathing patterns and relaxation techniques and trying to think ahead for when I’ve got a toddler and a newborn and there won’t be leftovers, none at all, just empty plates for a few wild months.

but in the meantime I’ve got leftovers and I’m not sure what to feed them to.


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