Of making it to the gym for once, being a wet blanket, and tinyart.

  1. Up before the alarm, I squash the impulse to trawl social media for fifteen minutes before rolling out of bed. I need to move.
  2. The desire to spend the still, dark morning in journalling devotion wars with the desire to lift and run. There’s only room for one each day—though there was a time I did both.
  3. My jaw hasn’t felt wired shut in days, which means the decaf is working. Yay!dammit.
  4. It’s too much—too many bodies, too many voices—but even as I nervously fan myself, I’m aware that the anxiety is exponentially (thankfully) less than last year.
  5. Go the f*ck to sleep.
  6. A lot of the time being a 1 feels like you’re the wet blanket of the ennegram.
  7. Deleting drafts that seemed promising but lack substance.
  8. Creating tinyart each day—savoring the thrill of the idea landing just so, of stretching into unfamiliar territory—reinforces old certainty. I can do this. There are stories in here yet.
  9. The hardest part of knowing ahead of time is being patient while reality catches up.
  10. I should’ve given her a bath tonight. Tomorrow, it’s the Return of Big Boots, and Big Boots only bathes the hard way.

Author: Ellie

Uppity stardust. Will eat (almost) anything.

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