Last night, just before going to bed, I posted this.
I find solace in sleep.
In that state of unconsciousness, I have no worries. No stress.
The only regret is the coming dawn.
While the comment is true, the last line isn’t completely true. The dawn is actually quite nice when its quiet and dark as it has been. But I have found that lately I’ve been craving sleep. I find safety in it.
Perhaps its just a gut reaction to my current situation, but the safety and warmth of my bed is one that fills me with comfort. I know that all of my worries will go away while I’m wrapped up in the thickness of my comforter. Though, to be honest, I don’t really have any worries. At least not those that anyone would think would be normal. I have no financial worries, I have no job worries. But I still have other worries.
I worry about the fact that my writing has slipped. I worry about life in this new community. I’d grown so comfortable in Outlook, it was my home, I grew up there after all. Here, it’s different, foreign, alien. Sure, it’s still Saskatchewan and only two hours from Outlook, but any new place is different. Any new place can feel foreign, especially when your routine is broken. After nine years, I had a routine. It was like slipping into a warm jacket that you always liked. Climbing into bed at the end of a long day.
Here, the routine hasn’t yet been found. Here, there’s still lots to sort out.
At jobs I’ve worked at in the past, they always say three months is the acceptable time for a person to get into a routine. But I remember once reading something in Melfort, while I worked in the news room of CJVR. It said that three months isn’t nearly enough. To find out if a person fits the job, sure, that’s fine. But to find out if the job, community and environment fits the person takes longer. For some it can be fast, but for others, it can take a lot longer. It said that a better gauge would be eight months.
For now, I will work during the day and look forward to a full night’s sleep.
Perchance to dream.