What’s next?

*Bobby Hill eating that unlimited supply of potato chips.

I am sitting with a warm cup of tea (to which I’ve added honey!) yet I’m not feeling settled, serene and/or calm.

I hate it when my props don’t work.

I hate it when my mind endlessly circles and figure-eights around my musts/shoulds/have tos.

I also hate when there is laundry and dishes and I have to brush my teeth and floss and sleep and do all those things expected/required of mere mortals. Even though I’ve been doing them my entire life.

I especially hate when I “hate, hate, hate.”

Despite knowing better, I had a petty and pouty day. Not quite “over” my flu yet, but no longer “sick sick,” I’m in a grey area where my ambitions outpace my abilities. There’s been a lot of sniffing and sighs and making of lists and head shaking. I’d rather moon over take out menus and let things fall off hangers, but that really isn’t going to help me move on to the next thing.

Because the current thing is just making me itchy and anxious.

And all I wanna do is eat an eternity of potato chips.


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