So tired

We've reached that point in the term when life seems hard. The mornings are dark, the evenings are dark. Even Cambridge has succumbed to a blanket of drizzle reminiscent of the greyest Lancaster days. Work is piling up around my ears: supervision essays, pastoral portfolio, dissertation, reading. It feels like everything else gets squeezed as a result. Family time, play time, prayer time, downtime. No time! 

And that's why I'm so tired. It's not the fact that LittleLanky isn't in a very settled sleep pattern at present (though that doesn't help), it's the fact that every minute of the day is accounted for, and nothing ever seems to get done. Justice can't be done to any given task, even if we stay up late every night to work on whatever thing is next in the list. We can barely wash and dry enough clothes to see us through the week.

I know that this will pass. It did at this time last year. 

It helps to have a clear purpose, and now my curacy is signed and sealed, that purpose is clearer than ever.

I'm taken back to our days of mountain biking in the Lake District, where hills are hills! On a really severe incline, you just have to push on. You concentrate on the next revolution of the pedals, and the next breath. You know that's all you can do. You can't turn back, you just have to put your head down and get on with it. That's where we are now. 

As advent approaches, and the exciting prospect of Christmas with a two year old becomes a reality, this grey time will be a memory, but for now it's real, and I felt I needed to record it here. I hope I haven't brought you all down too.