Exhaustion

I am just absolutely wasted. Not in the alcohol sense in the least; I'm just physically wrenched.

Part of it for sure is the almost 50-hour week I worked this week (like running a 10K the first day you begin to work out!). Part of it is coming down from the rollercoaster of housemate drama, which is almost wrapped up. Part of it is having stayed up way too late last night.

The effect that this wearyness has had on me is that I am staying in tonight rather than being too terribly social. Sorry Jerrysan and friends...won't be making it to DorkFest after all.

Another result is that I began to cry an hour or so while plowing through "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time." I'm thinking it must have triggered the empathetic, must-cry switch, because I'm finding myself red-faced, puffy and snotty. From about 1/2 the way through to the end (I devoured the book...read it in maybe 2 hours), I had tears rolling down my cheeks, stinging my eyes and irritating my skin. It's even lasted beyond finishing the book; I occasionally have been bursting (actually not bursting. more like...melting) into tears this evening.

*******

On the garden front: I have begun 18 tomato seedlings--two kinds: one I can't remember, but is basically a big, red slicing tomato and then Indian Stripe, which is a lot like a Cherokee Purple. In addition, I've got 8 pepper seedlings (jalapeño and then frigitello, thanks Jamie), 9 basil and 9 more sorrel seedlings. I am concerned about the first batch of sorrel I've begun; I used some pretty old, ratty potting soil. So why not begin again, right? I'm hoping to transplant the first ones and see what happens, but I don't think it did it right the first time.

Did I mention the peas have begun to sprout outside? It's very exciting, yet I think I screwed up by not putting enough soil on the plot. There's really just whatever is on the ground already, not even dug up because of the mimosa roots, with a thin layer of compost spread on it.

I feel very lost in this gardening process, and strangely not all that invested. I kind of expect failure, in a way. Maybe that way I won't be disappointed.

Tomorrow I'm going to try to make the beds; Charlie has a truck and said he'd help me haul some lumber. I have no idea what I'm doing, but at least I'll have the boards. Note to self: find a day and a way to get the compost delivered. Yeesh!