Light troubles speak; the weighty are struck dumb.
Status: sick. Pounding echinacea in the hope that I can avoid the worst of it. Tonight is my out-and-about night, but staying home and resting is probably the best play. Is that going to happen? Knowing me, unlikely. I’ll just prop myself up with Advil and stick to the schedule. Compulsion, my old friend.
A flurry of activity yesterday and I was able to complete one item on the task list, tee up another for completion on Sunday and write 751 words. A good effort. Celebrate the victory and do it again today.
These are however the light troubles. The ones I can solve on my own as I long as I get out of my own head and get out of my own way. I’ll need to take responsibility for the weightier items at some point, and I expect that’ll be a steeper hill to climb.
But first, rest.