What matters…

 

I really didn’t do that much, not at all. Cleaned, vacuumed, put things back in place & re-placed others, checked out the engine… & just enjoyed being home. Immensely.

You can’t really even call it work, but it made me realize, made me remember how much I have missed feeling like… feeling like I was actually *doing* something; something that may matter only to me, but when I’m done I can step back, look around at what I have accomplished, and see, with my own eyes, like I made even the smallest amount of difference.

Gods, I have missed that feeling so profoundly, but until today I couldn’t put my finger on what the emptiness was, why I was so angry, why I felt so useless.

Work.

Getting my hands dirty, feeling the strain in my muscles, using my mind to figure out problems… and the rewards of a day – or at least a few hours – well spent.

It makes me feel alive.

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