Sunday, Sunday here again.

Do you know that there’s nothing more insidious than Daylight Savings Time? Especially when you’re springing forward, and you’re like, “I was fine with the going back, thank you…” and it’s reading 9 a.m. on a clock when you know it’s really 8 a.m., and suddenly you realize that this is a perfect metaphor for your life RIGHT NOW because you’re really interested in not going forward at all.

Which is just not the way to start the day, if you ask me.

And every day, lately, has been a struggle. A mental checklist, a litany of processes and what-hurts-now-and-has-it-been-betters. I think, for a moment, that pain does not exist, that maybe it has cleared up on its own, but I am wrong. My body fights against me now, on a daily basis, and I’m not sure how to get it back.

I’m also not sure how I felt before because normal departed a long time ago.

So, I’m taking tiny steps even though I want to run from one place to another; in doing so, getting caught up in the poison of comparison between myself and others while also carving out a mantra of needing to put in the work (of any kind) to get results (because at this point, I’m not exactly living my best life). I’m attempting to be straightforward on that front, at least, because at the end of the day, comparison doesn’t get me anywhere – in fact, it just creates a bigger hole to dig out from. (It’s a nice hole; comfortable. Maybe I could put some flowers in it. Spruce it up a bit.)

Suffice it to say that people will do what they will do, try to live their lives, and I will sit here and write lame-ass-rambling blogs while my body flares up.

Yay, body. Go team.

Have a good night, everyone. Be kind to yourselves.

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