sluggish

Friday 2/2
Kuh-chunk click crack kuh-chunk whirr. the gears and motors that rotate the giant telescope are creaking to life, doing a slow 180 after receiving the signal, the alarm, that there has been an excess of internal stargazing, hasty careless naming of unknowable planets. Time to focus again on the known universe happening at eye level and below.
The move took its toll, which I completely underestimated--probably some sort of mental trick to enable me to actually get it done. Today it's hitting me. Hard. I feel like a salted slug turned inside out, except there's no pain, I'm only tired and a little bored with the show in my head starring me, produced, written and directed by me. even the commercials are about me. My brain is yawning just writing this.
I look outside though and all I can think is, will it snow today? I hope so. Not sure why.