Sunday, Sunday

Today was a good day.

I slept in ridiculously late and when I finally woke up I had the best breakfast known to humankind, cinnamon toast and tea.

My partner helped me clean the house which soothed my Virgo soul. Once every thing was clean I messed it all up again by cooking huge batches of roasted tomato bisque and quinoa mac and cheese to get me through the week. The weather was nice enough for a two mile walk and I’ll be in bed by 9:30 which is my goal every day of my life.

I’m not bragging. I just want to remind myself how much I can get done on the days when I can get things done and how good it can feel to be alive. The days are getting longer but not quickly enough. Seasonal Affective Disorder is exacerbating the general fuckery of the world (really, another mass shooting? I can’t.) and it just feels good to remember that life can feel good.

It could be the B12 vitamins I took yesterday or the placebo effect from taking B12 vitamins yesterday. I think it’s something else, though.

I’ve been thinking a lot about time lately. Specifically, I’ve been thinking about my time and who it belongs to. I’ve been wondering where my time goes and who it goes to. Thirty hours a week go to paid labor, but what about the rest of it? Who does it go to? I know it doesn’t go to me because I (a) never get anything done and (b) am exhausted.

Not anymore.

From now on the first person who gets my time is me. I’m reorganizing my priorities and putting myself first, even the little things.

Every day I will floss. Every day I will move in a way that feels good for at least five minutes. Every day I will have at least one healthy meal. The fact that I have been to busy or too tired to do these things probably makes my life seem ridiculous. I’m not ashamed of it. My life is ridiculous, but I’m taking it back and that feels so good.

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