keep moving
Every day is a struggle against my deep and inherent laziness. I feel too overwhelmed by how I'm supposed to fit in six to eight servings of vegetables in a day along with my chores or work or getting to the gym or doing anything creative.
I hate the hours between 5pm and 9pm. The slow sunset fills me with anxiety, an endless terror about the heat death of the universe and my sense of self, a thousand twilight memories. I wish I could skip this part of the day. I'll deal with everything else but this. I worry sometimes that my genetic code carries those signs of Parkinsons or dementia and one day I'm going to be a sundowner raging at the end of the day.
We're going to have the house painted in a week. I look forward to it being a bright, shocking green candy house.
I hate the hours between 5pm and 9pm. The slow sunset fills me with anxiety, an endless terror about the heat death of the universe and my sense of self, a thousand twilight memories. I wish I could skip this part of the day. I'll deal with everything else but this. I worry sometimes that my genetic code carries those signs of Parkinsons or dementia and one day I'm going to be a sundowner raging at the end of the day.
We're going to have the house painted in a week. I look forward to it being a bright, shocking green candy house.