Up at Seven, Functional by Nine

            I’m waking up later (seven instead of six), which means that it’s only taken a month for my week in Eastern Standard Time to wear off.  And, even though I went back to bed at eight, here I am ready for the day at nine. 

            To tell you the truth, I’ve been worried about my health this past month.  Sleep, fatigue, and muscle pain have all increased.  It’s the malaise of flu without the virus.  A visit to my doctor day before yesterday promises to solve the mystery.

            Whether the blood work shows any problems or not, she offered a clue to my lack of well-being.  It is a well-worn word with which I am highly familiar:  stress.

            My first response was that I couldn’t be stressed; after all, my daily life is peaceful if not occasionally a little too uneventful.  Dr. O’Neill reminded me that stress is like an onion:  it peels back in layers.  Well, evidently the outer layers have peeled back enough to reveal some inner layers:  some old grief and older memories.

            Now, that knowledge does not make me less tired or feel better, but it does give me hope.  I imagine struggling along a sandy beach and Jesus picking me up.  Actually, when I think about it, I realize he has never put me down.