I made it all the way to bed before I realized I had yet to blog. Call it a fatigue inducing combination of grinding out chapters and doing very rough yard work. My mind isn’t thanking me tonight and my back won’t be thanking me tomorrow. Why should they? I’m entirely spent. Then again I often wonder if arriving at the end of the day spent is not the secret to healthy living. We ought to be living full lives and full days. The ones like this feel as such.
So, as a result, I find myself blogging on my phone at the end of the night, tired and content starved. what’s weirder is that the internet isn’t offering me much by way of distraction. The Chauvin verdict came in and now I’m waiting for the other show to drop, but short of the big story there is little out there to hold my attention—less from the sporting world, save what happened this week.
that’s my one teaser.
so as I lay here wool gathering and preparing to descend Into what I expect to be unpleasant dreams I can’t help but thinking How full the day was and if tomorrow might be the same way