There's not been too much exciting going on anyway. The night shift is really, really starting to get to me. I didn't realize that when I posted I was feeling sad on Facebook that I'd get so many questions and responses! So there you have it- staying up all night and rarely getting outside = one sad Wendy. I haven't been sleeping well, if at all, and I'm just worn out. All I think about is sleeping and eating because I'm not getting enough of either!
Moving along, in an effort to get myself out of this slump, I hiked up Little Mount Si today with Rachel (who can make you laugh at your own mom's funeral). Despite the snow on the passes (and Whistler got 14 inches), it wasn't so much cold as it was windy- both from me sucking it and the impressive gusts that nearly blew us off the top! The pine trees swaying below looked like they were dancing at a ball. I'd totally dance with them with my mad DDR skillz. Whenever I get someplace like that, I'm overcome with this thought. It's hard to describe, but something about the fact that when we get back and go about our normal lives, those trees will still be dancing and the wind will still be howling. I find it sort of reassuring.
Speaking of trees, Jason answered my pathetic call/text to arms the other night. I need to fight this awful night beast, so off we go to the California redwoods! It's the only logical thing to do, you know? We'll be gone for a few days with the express purpose of admiring the trees, making up constellations, and eating lots of food (and many, many s'mores). You might still be asking, "No really, why the redwoods?" I'll leave you with these thoughts from John Steinbeck:
The redwoods, once seen, leave a mark or create a vision that stays with you always. No one has ever sucessfully painted or photographed a redwood tree. The feeling they produce is not transferable. From them comes silence and awe. It's not only their unbelievable stature, nor the color which seems to shift and vary under your eyes, no they are not like any trees we know, they are ambassadors from another time. They have the mystery of ferns that disappeared a million years ago into the coal of the carboniferous era. They carry their own light and shade. The vainest, most slap-happy and irreverent of men, in the presence of redwoods, goes under a spell of wonder and respect. Respect- that's the word. One feels the need to bow to unquestioned sovereigns. I have known these great ones since my earliest childhood, have lived mong them, camped and slept against their warm monster bodies, and no amount of association has bred contempt in me.
So I guess that's why. I need sleep, food, friendship, fresh air and awe. And then I'm flying into Chicago for more friends along the way home for Thanksgiving :)
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