Apparently needed the rest, because I didn't get out of bed until 10:30. That's just crazy. My sleep was fitful, too, and I often felt like I wanted to get up but was being held down. Lately I've awoken with my heart racing as often as not. It's uncomfortable and strange.
Journalling has also been strange. I find myself tempted to write things brighter or darker than they really are, creating some kind of image or character. Some of that is because I'm aware others are reading; some of it is how I want to see myself. It's given me lots of false starts in writing: "Is that really where your heart is?" And honestly, lots of my heart shouldn't be splayed out for all to see.
Peppermint mocha for my morning coffee today. Nancy boy.