One of those weeks

Do you ever have one of those weeks?  Not the kind where everything goes wrong.  I've had those, too, and they're lousy.  Sorry about that.

No, I mean one of those weeks where you're almost TOO alive.  Where things keep engaging your heart, where you have to deal with reality straight up over and over again from a whole bunch of different directions, and you feel every nerve ending in your soul like you're really, actually alive.  Emotions run raw from the highest heights to the lowest lows.  Beauty breaks out of the skies without warning and breaks your heart open.  Music floats into your relationships.  Tears flow from what you thought was going to be a polite sob into that ugly crying that no one wants to see.  You laugh like a maniac just for the sheer joy of it.  You dangle in the wind and writhe in pain waiting for resolution as if you were wrapped up in duct tape.  You sit by the fire and enjoy languid sips of good conversation and hot, delicious coffee like velvet.  You burn your tongue not enough to really hurt, just enough so that you taste everything at a new level.  You look your own death in the face and realize it's not happening today, so you're joyously alive.

It's been one of those weeks.

It kind of hurts, in a really good way, like a serious core workout.  And maybe that's what it is.