Sitting on the curb with the trash and taking every piece of pent up energy from the last ten years like a toll booth attendant at the Holland tunnel takes change. Trash. Waste. Time.
You weren’t there. You weren’t. You can’t contest that and nobody is expecting you to. It isn’t a thing and you know it, but you do know that no journey begins without the first step and you took that this week and nobody is going to take that from you. Show up. Keep showing up. Things will change.
—STOP—
Soup for dinner and a cough that appeared out of nowhere. Plans for the weekend and an invitation. Do something. Anything. Do what you will because it’s nighttime now and that’s when the rest comes if it ever comes so just wait for it until you fall asleep. Maybe.
You’ll write more, just not today. Today isn’t the one. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the next day. Some day.