I must be in love with myself as I close one door, open the other

Just had coffee with my family, and I am still head-hurting because of the things that I have to do. I miss being outrightly verbose but unthinking. I am not a person of intellect, and I would rather give in to feeling more than anything else. Here I am again, in the twilight zone, loving every minute of it. I will miss this place because I will have to let go of it sooner than imagined. My body is weary but my spirit is playful. My mind is alert but in a rut.