Yesterday I woke startled that I'd slept until 9am, so I leapt out of bed, and began frantically throwing my stuff together to head to the cabin to work. I skipped packing lunch, deciding just to run out to one of the two restaurants in town.

Although I really needed to sleep another hour or so - my family had just left and I'd had very little sleep - the waning day screamed at me to go go go!! Forget makeup, leave my bedroll (I'd just come back home to sleep), and skip scanning my checklist to see if I'd forgotten anything (I had).

Soon I was hurtling up the mountain, angrily tailgating a tourist, even though driving up this mountain is usually one of the most exhilarating and relaxing things I do each day.

I reached the cabin at 10:30.

Still exhausted, I puttered around, went out for lunch and drank a lot of Pepsi for (artificial and short-lived) energy, tried to work for about 10 minutes, sat restlessly under the Aspens and looked out at the mountains, stared at my computer for another 5 minutes, lay down on the bed hoping I could sleep, and then went home early. I had been too wired and exhausted to even sit outside and enjoy nature.

This morning I woke about a half hour earlier and lay in bed for awhile, daydreaming. When I finally got up, I washed my hair, deeply inhaling the powerful fragrance of freesia, then I gathered my bedroll, carefully went through my cabin checklist of stuff to take with me, made tea and gathered ingredients for veggie tacos, packed an apple, wasabi almonds, and a Hostess cupcake for snacks, and read through and responded to my most important emails. I drove up the mountain slowly, carefully passing the bicyclists and pausing to watch and listen to the seasonally-drenched creek.

I reached the cabin at 11am.

Taking my computer outside where I again sat under the Aspens, I wrote this blog, worked on my book proposal, savored the familiar rush of awe and natural energy of the mountains popping up just beyond the forest, studied the tiny insects nestling in the aphids and primrose, and watched the mutant butterflies that dip and swirl through the mountains and forests of Colorado. OK, and I did accidentally sit in deer poop.

All that rushing yesterday got me absolutely nowhere. I had no emotional space to write, felt too antsy to enjoy nature, ate food with no nutrition, and was too exhausted to even hike down to the creek.

Today, the hours stretch ahead of me. I'm going to fill the birdbath, chase a butterfly with no intention of catching it, space out alongside the creek, get lots of writing done, and then sleep with the wind.

I am defrazzled.

Looking forward to an unhurried day,