I feel a little broken right now. I don't feel I have the right to be, I'm just tired.
I took this photo last weekend at Governor's Island. The island is terrific, come picnic there with me! The grass is green, the old buildings are pleasantly old (some date back to the Revolutionary War). You can't go in any of the buildings though. People still live in some of the houses (half the island is still a base) and the other buildings are in disrepair. There is no push to clean them up because of the new big plans for the island (there are so many! Well, really five...). This means you look in dusty windows into scenes like this.
I love it, I do.
Here's plant life growing out of a roof at Castle Williams ("Commenced 1807, Compleated 1811" though most insides have obviously been replaced and upgraded):
And for shits and giggles, here are my fingers and toes:
I'm so bloody tired. A single long day (and my 12 hour day has nothing on some of you people, I know I'm a wimp) will not kill me, but spending hours after that day is done to plan the next few 14 hour days brings me down. I love being busy, I love being REALLY busy, but there's nothing of interest in these days. My long days have long stretches in which my mind drifts to all that leaves me depressed about my current state. The exhaustion is as much from work as it is from mental/emotional wreckage. Luckily, I have books for my 5 hours on public transportation tomorrow. That means less time spent inside my awful, awful head.
I'll stop whining now. I life has too much good in it to dwell.

I took this photo last weekend at Governor's Island. The island is terrific, come picnic there with me! The grass is green, the old buildings are pleasantly old (some date back to the Revolutionary War). You can't go in any of the buildings though. People still live in some of the houses (half the island is still a base) and the other buildings are in disrepair. There is no push to clean them up because of the new big plans for the island (there are so many! Well, really five...). This means you look in dusty windows into scenes like this.
I love it, I do.
Here's plant life growing out of a roof at Castle Williams ("Commenced 1807, Compleated 1811" though most insides have obviously been replaced and upgraded):

And for shits and giggles, here are my fingers and toes:

I'm so bloody tired. A single long day (and my 12 hour day has nothing on some of you people, I know I'm a wimp) will not kill me, but spending hours after that day is done to plan the next few 14 hour days brings me down. I love being busy, I love being REALLY busy, but there's nothing of interest in these days. My long days have long stretches in which my mind drifts to all that leaves me depressed about my current state. The exhaustion is as much from work as it is from mental/emotional wreckage. Luckily, I have books for my 5 hours on public transportation tomorrow. That means less time spent inside my awful, awful head.
I'll stop whining now. I life has too much good in it to dwell.
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Don't worry your head will work itself out. Let the books help you escape.