See, I decided a while ago to make my bed every day, with the strong stipulation that making it badly is okay. Soon I realized that making it badly is better, cuz then I get a made bed PLUS a judgment-free interaction with self. An episode of anti-perfectionism practice. Dig?
I'm on night two of setting out to write in the paper journal daily for a fortnight. Am
tired and will likely scribble semi-unintelligibly. I think I'd like to meet a higher standard in writings there than the minimum. And here I am, avoiding it until I'm exhausted.
I was exhausted at 10 a.m.
Things are good, tho.
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