I woke up feeling rather uninspired. The day felt more like a Monday and less like a summer holiday. It felt gray, dreary, humid. It was also very early. I set alarms for 7:15am and 7:30am every day. Almost every day. What can I say? I love mornings.
This morning I dragged my ass to the gym because it’s right there and even if I do the absolute minimum, it’s better than the alternative, which would be absolutely nothing. Drip by drip. Rome wasn’t built in a day. You got this girl. Also, your body is amazing.
I’m figuring out new habits/routines that work best for me right now. I’m creating space for the new and part of that is letting go of the old to free up space that has always been there. I’m accepting the fact that I’m not going to be the person who is home for dinner. At this particular moment in my life.
My body is tired. I didn’t sleep well. Also, it took me for-fucking-ever to even fall asleep because I was anxious about the cockroach I watched scuttle across my bedroom floor. My initial thought was oh you must be joking, immediately followed by why me and a slew of profanities before I resigned to the fact that living in New York means living amongst the roaches so you might as well get some sleep so you can put your best face forward and face whatever tomorrow may bring.
Labor Day is a weird holiday.