After this entry promising to attack the kitchen, clean, get it out of my head.

Looks like the wind has stopped, weird.  Sipping this latte quicker than quick…

Thinking about taking self to lunch in Petaluma, some new spot on the river.  Can’t remember its name.  Taking journal with me, some writing, then back home for cleaning and minimalist shifts.  I’m obsessing over it, getting the condo clean, cleaned.  Like my mom’s going to come today and inspect.  She’s not, and she doesn’t do that.  But, it’s her standard I’m making my own.

Distracted by incoming messages from…. Not breaking my connection to task.  “I return to task,” as Dad always says.  

Alright enough stalling, clean the kitchen.