At a Loss

On a few levels.

Loss of my mom.

Loss of sleep.

Loss of [manageable] time.

Loss of understanding why coworkers are not upfront about not having your work when you were on bereavement leave (and it takes an incident for that truth to come out).

At a loss knowing what to post about.

At a loss trying to figure out how to get back on top of things.

At a loss pondering the state of the world, politics, and human nature.

At a loss . . . wondering if spring will ever arrive or if, in July, we’ll simply slide into summer. 

I’m sure all will fall into place again at some point.  Speaking of “fall” though, right now, it feels like I’m hanging in a wishing well by my fingertips, struggling not to drop into the groundwater . . . or whatever else may be waiting below.

Here’s to wishing—to be embraced by the straight and narrow, the norm, the predictable, the routine . . . and welcoming the loss of loss.