I can’t believe there are more than 600 of these.
Nope. Still can’t breathe.
I tell myself I will skip cleaning day today. But then I immediately change my mind. I think about the compulsion. I think about how good I feel afterward even though I always hesitate to begin. I think about why I place such a value on order. I remember that some brains are made/conditioned to be that way.
Everything lately feels like a lesson in physics: an object at rest stays at rest.
More Mucinex, another Dayquill, pot of ginger and lemon and honey simmering on the stove.
I can’t get warm enough.
Spain. Now I’m craving manchego and ham and Rioja, Pedro Ximenez, and that date cake from Niche.
The smell of smoke and fire.
Nothing is drying me out enough. Running and running and running.
How is it already March?