I’ve spent a lot of time trying to understand people today. This morning, I had to try to understand the choices made by others about me. Around lunchtime, I had to explain decisions I didn’t make to people who seemed a little wounded by them. Off and on all day, I’ve been trying to make sense of someone who makes me think in circles on a good day.
I’m sleep deprived after a rough night last night and two bad days of spinal arthritis don’t help either.
Tonight, I went to take a picture of a poem from the book I’m currently reading (Letters, to the Men I Have Loved, by Mirtha Michelle Castro Mármol) so I could send it to a friend, and when I opened the camera app it was reversed, so I saw my own face instead of the book.
I look weary, and not just because of the day. It’s something I have been noticing in a lot of my pictures lately. I hate it. I’m making changes to try to fix that, but it’s taking time. Longer than I would like. I’m not good at waiting. I’m not a naturally patient person. But I am stubborn and persistent, so I’m going to keep at it until my eyes don’t look so weary.