Waving Not Drowning

They set up a skype date so they could discuss their next move. With the time change and opposite schedules getting an actual conversation happening was more convoluted than string theory. So ridiculously complicated. By the time Alistair is home from work Zara is fast asleep. On days when Z is up at the crack of dawn, it's 3 am Al's time but he's either a few glasses into his wine and poring over a script or exhausted and too stressed to sleep. God forbid he's entertaining company.  It took a while but Z knows nothing good comes from late night-early morning texting or phone calls. If he's up and sees her online he can call her, thank you very much. The last thing she needs is to skype him and see some other woman tangled up in his sheets over his shoulder. Sheets she bought and broke in with him on Easter weekend last spring. What a difference four months makes. His contract got picked up and the work is pouring in. It's biblical in scope. Work begets work beg...

Sleep, that's all she needs. Turn off her brain and shut down her body. Virginia can't figure out how this became her routine. Up with the birds then run around frenetically accomplishing next to nothing until her feet are so sore it hurts to walk. And for what, that's the question. Clear as mud, to quote her mom. She picked the wrong fork in the woods way back when, that's obvious. Thanks for nothing Mr. Frost. Hours and hours of breaking her back trying to master her craft and for what? A life of constant struggle and suffering with little to no reward. These days, at least- that's the reality. Give give give. What about some taking, hmm? Ginny's ready to stop and smell the roses. Reap her just rewards. Throw her stupid alarm clock out the window and sleep in for a change and participate in activities and work that is actually fulfilling, creatively, spiritually, emotionally. Ten, fifteen years ago maybe this was a different story but what happened to respect ...