Still dry. Reflective.

Six days. Last time I did this it was the first time I had done it. I expected to become a bouncy morning person with an appetite for physical exercise and unmatchable joie de vivre. In January. While giving up smoking. And starting a new job. Yeah, RIGHT.

This time round it's much the same. I can't wake up to save my life. I feel like I am sleeping off an 18 month hangover. Which might well be true.

But I feel quite calm, which is an unusual feeling for me. I am usually wired and anxious after anything that reminds me how fragile we are, how much of my happiness and security is happenstance, and how temporary it could all turn out to be.

I think natural disasters are easier to process than conflicts or terrorism, even ones on this scale. At some level, there's nothing you can do: some people would have died no matter what kind of world we had created. At another, you can get angry: most of the people who died were poor, and living vulnerable lives in vulnerable places. *That* we could do something about. And we fucking well better.

Last night I was home alone. I sat in our newly minimalist living room (no tree, no coffee table) under a blanket, drank a pot of camomile tea and watched the fantastic Desperate Housewives. I felt peaceful. It was a welcome feeling.

joella