Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

I'm right at the edge today, fearing I might step off if the just-right reason shows up. What the just-right reason is, I don't know, but I guess if I end up dissolving into the tears that seem to be threatening, I'll know then. I'm trying to be analytical about the feeling pressing against the back of my eyes and through my nasal passages, hoping that analysis will help the feeling go away. It's not really working. Sleep eluded me most of the night. Once or twice a month I have a night sleep just won't come. I go to bed tired, but after an hour or two of sleep, I'm wide awake. Tossing, mostly onto my back and my left side. I don't sleep on my right side since my vertigo incident. I actually prefer my right but I'm afraid I'll trigger another bout of dizziness. Sleep laughed at me and slithered off to bathe someone else in dreamland. I'm pretty sure lack of sleep is part of today's slipping into sadness. That and thoughts of Ado. I miss h...

Lots of negative, hurtful, mean thoughts swirl and crash into one another as I sit here, trying to do my taxes. Nothing else in my life sets me off like filling out these forms. It's not so much that the numbers, the rules, and the exceptions make my eyes glaze over. Believe me, they do. It's just that I don't make much money considering and having to justify every little thing is mind-numbing. Each year, when I do my taxes, I end up thinking about the education I have (an MA), the amount of time I spend on my job (upwards of 55 hours a week), the amount of time I put into professional development (reading, conferences, publishing), and the amount of money I bring home (enough that I can save a little out of each check--not a huge amount but enough to create an emergency fund). All of this combined makes me feel like I make squat compared to a lot of other people who have less education, spend less time doing their job, and aren't required to participate in professional...