Had the partial waffles Henry chose not to finish. Second cup after all dishes done and first laundry set for day. Still slow and groggy, maybe it’s the weather. No idea… just going over the week, especially yesterday. What I did and didn’t. The early drives, the bad traffic that one night.. commuting. Know what the aim is.. the destination where THE story starts. Maybe just start it now, I tell myself. How though… just keep writing. Thinking thoughts of all varietals and shapes, colors and inferences.
Thinking too much. And it’s getting worse. Toxic overthought and excess deliberation and measurement. Ask Jack when he’s getting off his game he asks me if I’ll extend till 11, I agree hesitantly. But then think, it’s Saturday, fuck it. Let the kid enjoy his morning, being a kids. Don’t infect him with adult mind and organizational deconstruction of a day, especially the morning, Saturday morning nonetheless.
Tempted to go upstairs and prep the next laundry set, but giving myself the same space and grace as Jack.
Enjoy your morning, I remind myself. Nothing is pressing, not a thing stressing, al occurrences these early hours project blessings.
Sip slower, collect.