First

This night air tonight feels like my past.  That bittersweet tang of freedom about to be lost, while summer still has it's fingers tangled in your hair.  All I want to do is find a grassy spot, tip myself back on it, and watch the stars spin around me.  I certainly didn't want to turn around and walk back into the cool slick and hum of the office, and try to run with "Business As Usual".  Still I did it.  Every pay check now is one more hedge against panic.  One more little Dutch boy finger in a leak; a little more time purchased while I convince myself that I have not wasted my time, and I am not failing my family.  While I know that these things are not true, and the logical core of my brain tells me that, I can't help feeling it.  The anxiety that used to sneak up on me occasionally has now moved in.  It carved out a hollow spot under my solar plexus, and set up shop.  A meth lab like operation that messes with my heart rate, makes me shake, makes me sweat, makes me cold, makes me cry.  So I have to buckle down.  I am lucky in so many ways, and I cannot let self pity and fear suck me down.