Yesterday I was waking up in my own bed and today I’m back at the lodge, deep in heart and soul of the story. We’re almost at the midpoint now. I’ve got pages of notes and miles and miles of thought.

In my life I never dreamed one could have too much input. The brain can handle a lot. I have years missing from my life because there wasn’t enough valuable input worthy of processing, let alone make it to long term storage. So the thought that there could be too much all at once is ludicrous.

That’s exactly what is happening here though. After every lecture I’m inspired and I have something I want to write about it, but then there’s 10 minutes until the next thing and I have to drop a thought on the floor and move on.

I really need to find a way to organize myself enough to capture everything and be ready for more input. That’s another thing I’ll probably have figured out just in time to go home.

Last night after most everyone was nestled back in the safe spaces of their rooms I wandered out to hit the treadmill and paid a visit to the copy room. I’ve got a student reading today and I keep changing my mind about what I want to read.

I edited some things and rearranged the order and I needed to reprint. Just about the time I sat down at the computer my ex husband called. They forgot to feed the cat and can’t find the house key.

Have you ever been in a situation where your head is in one place and then all of a sudden something happens and you’re pulled out of it, a million miles in a different direction. Yeah, it was like that.

He was in one of those nostalgic moods and wanting to prove something about “us”. Sometimes I’m grateful for our relationship and friendship and sometimes I just don’t give a shit. Despite being away mentally and physically, I engaged in the conversation and was surprised how nice it was.

I even contributed with a memory of our wedding reception that he had completely forgotten. That opened the door of course, as I knew it would, and he got really deep with me.

Before that though, I was quite intrigued by his first move after the opening gambit. He asked me (through telling my son to ask as C was the one holding the phone), what my favorite musical artists are. It was a little freakish because just an hour before I was writing about that. How could he know? It’s probably the main reason I was so open to engaging him in the conversation.

Eventually he took the phone and was speaking to me directly and by the end of the conversation he was crossing lines, deeply apologetic, and telling me he loved me. That, my friends, is too much.

We said goodbye just about the time I was done printing and I got up and went back to my room. I have way more I could say about that conversation, but like the rest of my interactions this week it will have to wait until I’ve got more time and space.

And a faster processor too,

~Miss SugarCookie