Dreaming

I feel as though I am living a dream. Not in the sense that my life is working out perfectly and everything is amazing; I feel as though I am drifting. My sense of time is all out of whack. My sense of focus and drive and purpose, also. Is this what happens to people who have nothing to occupy their time? Even when I try to be purposeful about something, it seems to always get pushed aside for something just a bit more whimsical. Why unpack when I could be with friends? Why organise and sort when I could be outside playing ball with Cam. Why blog when I could be reading a book?

Maybe because it's summer. Maybe because classes are over. Maybe because despite the move, this has not been a week for focusing on things outside of myself. (A yellow jacket stung my ankle Sunday morning, and my foot was quite swollen and painful up until last night.)

Tonight is the full moon. I hope that the comfort of ritual will snap me back to myself. Purpose. Drive. Direction.