This morning I awoke earlier than usual to my dog convulsing at the edge of my bed. Worried he might vomit, I shooed him straight out the door to the backyard. Then I realized he could hardly walk. He was shaking. He could not breathe. I scooped him in my arms and wrapped him in a blanket. I held him on the couch until his breath steadied and his body was still.
I was afraid he was going to die. I breathed and whispered sweet words to him. I reminded myself of my childhood dog and her seizures. I convinced myself it was those stupid flea pills. He let me hold him for an eternity, then shook it off, ate breakfast, and went back to sleep.
The last couple days I have been lost in my mind. Yesterday, I wrote almost the entire day. I finished part of an essay to prove to the state of California that I deserve a clear teaching credential, (as if my survival through a grueling residency program and my first year on my own were not enough). I poured two or more hours back into my pitch, sculpting word by word.
When I write, I often disappear from everything else. I get sucked so deep into my mind that the day disappears into darkness. Sometimes I forget to eat. Last night I forced myself to take a break to do yoga. Pandora playing in the background, I wrote down the name of this song. This morning, after Simon was tucked back into my spot in bed, I sat and listened. Then I cried. I get so lost in my mind. I’m grateful to be awake.
oliviaobryon 