I have spent the last forty-eight hours dividing my time between sick and needy little girls, and dotting the i's on my 300 page manuscript. I think there was a little bit of sleep in there too. Now that my manuscript has been sent off and the kids are in bed, I feel as if I could lie down in the middle of a public sidewalk and fall fast asleep. And yet here I am, still at the computer. It's like I've been so deeply submerged in one type of work that I'm desperate to dilute the intensity in something else. Like craving salt after eating a rich, sweet dessert.
As I soaked beneath the bubbles I imagined putting on a robe and making banana pancakes, buttermilk syrup and eggs with cheese melted on top. I've hardly eaten today, and the warm, buttery comfort food sounds delicious. Since my husband is working late and the kids are in bed I could move around the kitchen quietly, uninterrupted. The idea sounds healing, but the reality is just too hard. Instead I think I'll have a peanut butter and jelly and a glass of cold milk. I don't usually drink milk, but tonight it sounds good in its cold, unsweetened creaminess. And then I'm going to bed.