Kriyat Shma Al HaLaptop

My parents (tslabw) (and should know how much I love them) worry when I write about how tired I am. I work hard, emotionally and physically. It's OK for me to be tired.

This morning a student told me that her mom reads my blog and likes it because it's totally positive. Mrs. C, if you're reading - you have an amazing daughter finishing high scool and should be very proud of all your children.

Last week I was at book fair and it paid off to show up at the last half hour. The hosting charity received many copies of brand new books and sold them half price. But in the last half hour they cut things way down. I got a bunch of Haikus For Jews - for gifts - for a dollar each. I got Debra Winger's lovely memoir for 3 dollars. A memoir about insomnia also for 3 dollars. A big coffee table book called Gadget Nation (which includes the Shabbos Lamp), and more.

I am feeling tired, but a better kind of tired I've felt in a while.

Yesterday I performed for a kiruv organization and one of the organizers remembered ne for a gig a did a few years back for another organization he was involved with. That one was out in Yardsley Pennsylvania. I had to rush and take the train out there immediately after Shabbos. There was a problem with train and it was cancelled for hours. So to make the gig on time I had to take a cab there. They didn't ant it come out of my pocket but didn't feel they had it their budget. So, they passed around a hat to get me my cab money. It's all coming back to me now. That was a solid performance, as was yesterday's. Thank G-d.

Today I woke up 17 hours ago, oversaw a minyan, taught 5 classes, counselled three kids, and and and. It's the white fire that gets to me. Here's a little free associative vent:

Is tiredness a figment, or stuck to us like cement? is that which we feel real? does mind over matter - matter? - does it deter us from accepting what is? is self help just a publishing biz? does love exist? is that question better to resist? what if you know the answer is yes and you try your best and then there's an endless chain of ands? - so much you can't understand, the simple turning complex, the clean slate getting messy, is this universal or is it just me? if dr, seuss rapped might it have been this this way, no bling - just play. if Sinatra rapped - obviously he's do it his way. that was something I didn't need to say, why date myself (too), when I maybe should be dating you or you or you. does that belong in this space?, or maybe in that site about book/face? now there's a world I don't comprehend; how do you have 800 friends? a teacher of mine said she likes natural altered states, that when it comes to writing they abate - unlike unnatural drugs or drink, that ruin the way you think, but something like being tired (as i am now big time - wow) can turn your writing voice wired. for her - an ear infection turned her in a new direction. writing is my hyper-focus; it's like that Keanu Reeves bus - I feel like I can't let it stop, it's a bomb that I don't want to drop. it's a dreamland, a people at my feet land. I love it here, and I feel so dear. and now it's time to go, oh yes indeed i know, i can't stay here too long, in my beautiful dreamland, my beautiful dreamland song.

Wishing everyone well.