November 7th 2018

Today I made some progress. I’ve been in a bit of a state all week because I just kind of feel like I’m floating a bit at the moment, with work, and with love, and with life, and I don’t seem to be floating in any particular direction. I’m holding on to the balloons, but it’s a still day so the wind isn’t guiding me one way or the other. And the upwards force of the helium is in direct equilibrium with the downforce of gravity, so I’m not climbing or falling, I’m not heading left or right, or up or down, I’m just floating on a spot a couple of feet above the ground, hoping not to fall.

Wow, I really committed to that metaphor.

I think it worked though, right?

Today was a bit better though. My boss took me for breakfast and reassured me about work and the direction in which that particular balloon would blow when the wind picked up again, and I guess I hope that the other balloons have similar intentions. But anyway, no bad day starts with eggs benedict.

I know that all I need is to have patience but, to milk this balloon metaphor as much as I possibly can, if you leave a balloon for too long eventually the helium will dissipate, the balloon will empty, and the only thing holding you up is the string and whatever hope you’ve got left.

Until tomorrow, hold on to hope if you’ve got it.


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