Peek-a-boo

'I'm really too old for this game', I thought this morning in the shower.  Things don't go away simply because I close my eyes or hold my hands in front of my face.  My backslide pattern is familiar to me now; staying up late doing nothing, insomnia, dread of the morning, fervent prayers for time travel to absolve for all the lost time doing the above, bargaining with the morning light, borrowing all day from the future where the unaccomplished are rearranged but not addressed.  I'm officially freaking out.  This will be the ebb and flow of 2012 I predict.  Upheaval of moving, personal and professional preparations for the same, random moody stuff, life.  I know everything is better with a good night's rest and an early wake up.  I know this.  But I still slide into the funk and let the weight of the undone insulate me from happiness.  I don't want to leave my house.  But I must and I shall.  Soon I will not have the luxury of time to fret so I don't worry really that I will be in this place long.  Still, I'm really too old to hide under the covers and wish the world away.