By jungle, I mean the furthest thing from it in almost every way: a small, suburban home filled with peace and quiet, save for the space between a middle-aged woman’s ears, where dung-slinging monkeys scamper and shriek in a swirling, tumultuous mess .

Metaphorically speaking, of course. In the space of a week, I will start a new job, and a new grad course, and my son will start school and a new reading program.  It’s a lot for my stress-vulnerable head to wrap around.  I am aware of my many blessings, and grateful every day for all that I have.  I nonetheless struggle with the stress of change and multiple simultaneous deadlines.

Posts will thus be short, factual and/or cathartic. Here goes.