Today is William Shakespeare's four hundred fiftieth birthday and I haven't finished reading Twelfth Night, and I can't promise that I will. Instead of reading after dinner I fell into an hour and a half nap, more or less which rather limits my reading time this evening. I still haven't decided to leave my church, since I don't want to make this kind of decision while I am upset. Or could this be akin to a battered wife refusing to leave her husband because she wants the emotions to cool down so she can make a responsible decision?
I have been traumatized by last weeks events and one of the symptoms of trauma is in exaggerating dangers and risks and overblowing situations and I believe that I have been doing this. Taking naps can be much more effective for getting over these things than reading Shakespeare but there could even be room for both.
It is always disappointing that friends cannot or will not be a little bit present when I am going through this shit and once again I really find myself wondering about the depth or strength of my friendships though I cut people slack for being incredibly busy at work as is often the case with me.
Despite all, work went incredibly well today.
I have nothing witty or insightful to add.
Good night.
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