Monday, Sept. 13, 2004 | 10:07 p.m.

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Marriage is love.

If Only

If only. Some days I just wish I hadn't gotten out of bed. Or is it that it seems like I never got out of bed? I get to the end of the day, I look back and I can't see that a single constructive thing got done. I lay down and I realize I didn't spend enough time with my kids, I didn't get the chores done I wanted to get done and that all the busy-ness sometimes just seems like a way to keep from thinking, or maybe more like a way to not have to feel. Goddess knows I do enough thinking to put Socrates to shame.

No wonder I feel so numb -- it's one thing right after another, until I drop into bed, exhausted, and yet unsatisfied because I didn't get it all done and I know it's unending and I never will get it all done, so why try?

Yep, one of those days.

I was reading about Artemis last night, about how Artemis is about solitude, about being away from the noise and the chatter and the things to get done. Artemis is there in that time I spend in the woods with no one else to please or to do for. I need an Artemis retreat, some alone time in nature, preferably in nature that is under 90 degrees. I need to recharge and I need to be able to sit, and feel and maybe write about it, but not to have to do. If only.

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