Falling Up

Oh, dear reader. I just don't know where to start.

Why does it take 20 minutes to translate two verses of John 2?
Why do I have a week and a half to write two term papers and yet have no motivation, even though I find the topics interesting?
Why does the term paper draft I have attempted simply seem to repeat the same vocabulary in different arrangements through all 8 pages?
Why can't I sleep at night and why am I so tired in the morning?
Why in the world did every third person I made eye contact with during my hour long walk stare at me like I was from outer space?
Why is my left first metatarsal-phalange joint swollen and sore every time I walk?

Why in the world did I fall up the stairs instead of down, and how in the world could I fall up hard enough to produce a huge painful lump on my patella?

I'm not really frustrated, merely mildly inquisitive. My lack of frustration is itself something curiously annoying. I really need (or want) some time of my own to sort things out. I feel as if I can't produce anything worthwhile simply because I haven't had enough time to process all the information and come to conclusions.

All said, I'm ready to come home and smell the kids. I really wouldn't mind just working in a garden or barn for a few months with a few smart people to verbally ruminate with. I feel as if either I've overdosed on information or I've undergone so many paradigm shifts that the information just doesn't have many hooks to hang on anymore. I need to re-evaluate.

What Falls Up, Must Fall Down. But how do I know whether my sensation of weight is due to gravity or due to another force? (Einstein: I can't)