Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Seventy
The gift of time.
Small cups of decaf while journaling.
“I am more me when I am creating.”
If only we could permanently get this Wednesday back, I’d be a much happier person.
One who gets me.
House of Good.
I tell him that sitting in that hammock is an automatic nap.
Reading research and outlining lecture slides. Trying to map it all out over the next several days.
The way the sun sets behind these trees, and the wiggling leaves make dancing shadows.
So many books I want to read. So little time to read them.
