Just a handful of days away from my favorite month. Or maybe that’s November. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Anyway, FALL. I’m sick of Summer, and every year I feel that way. Summer is a young person’s season I feel. Man I am getting fucking grouchy at my mid-forties forum.
WIP call about to start, and I don’t plan on saying a fucking thing. Enjoying my espresso, looking at calendar, 2 meetings much later in day. Nurse texts me, I smile and feel better. I swear, she is my book, books. Everything she writes making my mind and vessel react. Interesting… again, mid-40s and only now feeling this, what someone would call love or whatever.
Definitely needing more espresso. See camera to my left, remember I still have pictures to go through. Meeting starts, people saying hi and good morning, others like myself quiet. No words. Distracted by a pile to my right, one I got through a bit last night.
Starting a spreadsheet for expenses. Doing it differently, everything with money. Everything has to be done differently I’m telling myself. Everything from relationships to work, writing, when I wake up, what I order for coffee and I need to take that out of the budget entirely both Starbucks and Peet’s except for when with the Nurse, when I write, my word limit and aim for the day.