I went home early from work today; my stomach started acting up again, unsurprisingly.  Some people take on stress in their head (migraines); some get jittery and anxious; some get lethargic; I feel like spewing.  It’s been a familiar pattern for me at a few points this year.  If the pattern holds, I’ll have nausea for a few more days, maybe a week; then – what? I’m not quite sure.  Part of me feels like the walking dead – which has a specific meaning.  These are the people that have been hit by land mines, and the shrapnel sits in their body, slowly working its way closer and closer to key heart valves, waiting, biding its time to deliver the final blow when one least expects it.

Impending doom.

It’s not a great way to spend one’s day.  But again, I come back to the knowledge that I bear full responsibility.  I created the land mine out of thin air, an ephemeral, intangible, impossible hope, and so should I be surprised when it explodes in my face?  No.  I feel the shrapnel moving, slowly and painfully, and it feels like – truth.  Yes, truth can hurt.

I’ve gotten advice to “keep busy”, as if distraction alone were enough to bring me happiness, to turn the river back upstream, to cause apples to jump from the ground back up to the branch.  So I’ve been trying to keep busy.  It’s only partially working, but then again, had I not been keeping busy I may have been even worse off.

I had an excellent meetup about Crowdify with a friend and mentor tonight.  I have some plans in mind for taking some new steps down that path – keeping myself busy.  In the meantime, before that happens, I have some other project work to finish, and so we’ll have to see about timing.  But I’ve seen a glimpse of where I can go in the medium term with that project that makes sense.

Then I spent a couple hours with a public relations group here in town and talked marketing and PR and branding with some people I knew, and some new acquaintances as well.  Keeping busy.  (Note to self: the veggie burgers at Cyclops are top-notch).  However, I seem to have lost most of my appetite.  Maybe I’ll go on a hunger strike.  Both Mahatma Gandhi and Nelson Mandela went on hunger strikes to protest their life circumstances, so I would be in good company.  I kid, I kid.  I’d probably lose weight, however.

Up early tomorrow – unless my stomach won’t cooperate – to do a little project work wrap-up and then a full day of training.  We’ll see.