I’m tired today. Was tired yesterday too. I hadn’t slept my last night in Dublin, and left at half four in the morning to catch my flight into London. I went straight from Gatwick airport to Earl Station via bus, and walked from there to Onslow square in South Kensington. I was looking for St. Paul’s church where my friend Chris was expected. I got lost and felt all the while wandering as if I were in a dream. Disconnected and hearing my own breathing and finally finding the church.
It was an old church but inside was as far from traditional as I’d ever seen. No pews. Cushions on the floor and a full band on the stage. Peace and welcome in the air. I dropped my bag and plopped beside it and felt tears coming to my eyes the way they are prone to do when over tired and finally feeling in a safe place to rest.
And then Chris found me, and after the service we headed to grab lunch. And after lunch I found my way to a hostel and checked in. And slept from 3 to 7, and dragged myself out of bed for dinner, and crawled back into bed and slept until this morning.
This morning was breakfast at the Hostel, and then wandering to a cafe to get some writing done, and then Skoob Books. I spoke to the woman working there and left a copy of American Woman with them. Had indian food for lunch and read The Prophet because it is always a good book to read, and now I am back at the Hostel. Will meet up with Lyt soon,because she’s taken a week off to come and visit, and I look forward to it.
And I’m feeling exhausted. Feeling far away from home. Sad to leave Dublin. I am mid process and want to process. I am mid process and can’t stop thinking about what has happened so far and wondering what will continue to happen. It makes being present difficult. It makes writing sloppy.