Well definitely not in a good way. If my ex were to message me right now I might say something that would result in an email from my lawyer. Taking a breath, thinking about Paris, the picture behind me.. going back as a fluent French speaker.
Okay, one more word for the day. A verb, ‘to write’. Écrire. Not going to attempt conjugations at this point… just looking up words, readying for my trip back.
The AE leaving said in his email to the team that after all this covid stuff and some life changes and decisions, it’s time to chase his real dream. Wonder what that is… You can always restart, this reminds me. Always… Happiness is not to be sought but acknowledged in its already accommodating proximity.
So much to be thankful for, I’m seeing that more and more and find myself having less of those moods and demeanor stalls. In fact, I’m fixing myself a nice dinner tonight. That’s what I’m doing. For ME.
My grateful chants for this condo and Windsor will never stop I don’t think, honestly.
Almost 7:30, done with shower, in office, seeing more. More tot he story, more to wine, of wine… my wine story, nights like this where it’s me and only me and the music of the glass. Actually why don’t I have one…. Open that Pinot, or the AVV Merlot I bought today on an Oliver’s grocery run.
Leftover pasta for dinner, some bread but not much. Fast on solids starts. Running in morning… new route, going to try for 6, and make myself run slow. Trying not to think about tomorrow’s run and if I go or don’t, even though I very much will. Put on Tycho, and enjoying the room. Logging off early tonight, meeting early and want a glass of that Merlot. The character that set me in wine’s way and way of writing.
Counting words when I promised myself and you that I wouldn’t. Yes, shoaled call the night early. Need to start wearing these cheaters more as Mom and Kerri keep pushing. Ugh, just a denial thing I guess. Old, getting older.. unavoidable I know, but it doesn’t make it easier. Should it be, no. Just laugh at it. I’m trying.