I'm traveling for work this week (hello, Los Angeles sunshine!). It means full days and missing home, but also stretching out in a quiet hotel bed with a novel at hand and no laundry or dishes waiting to be washed.
The thought of cracking open my laptop right now makes me cringe. (I am tip-tapping this out on my iPod; NaBloPoMo compels me.)
I had my roughly annual breakdown the other night, ugly crying into my pillow, exhausted by the responsibilities I carry right now, certain I am failing at all of them, fearful that the only value I have is in being found competent by others.
In the light of day I don't know if I better see reality or just better ignore it.