Barest Minimum

It’s Monday, again.

It wasn’t a bad weekend. I’ve been in a mostly ok headspace; not a great mood, but not bad, sometimes I might hit a level of “this is good”. I did most of the chores I wanted to finish, so there’s that. However, I feel ridiculous to derive such a sense of accomplishment from the things I should do anyway, like dishes and laundry. I sat on the couch and thought I tore myself off the couch and did the things that needed to be done, I should be happy about it, and then the other part of my mind says “Congrats, you’ve managed to do the barest minimum to be considered a functioning adult.”

It’s nice to be able to talk to Shawshank. I busted out the paints and worked on the “new” minis for a couple of hours. It would have been nicer to share the table and paint with him beside me. However, I set up my phone so he could watch, and we chatted while I painted tiny red wimples and habits. The painting didn’t do much to lift my spirits though. By the end of the night, I just felt like a moldy pudding.

Yesterday, I noticed I work a later shift today, and I go in for noon. It’s not my favorite time to start a shift, but it’s with MusicMan and he’s good about just letting us do whatever as long as we do our work without killing someone. Plus, he’ll help instead of just watch us run around like headless chickens.

And I can bring on the early workouts a little earlier than I expected to. I have plenty of time. As soon as this is posted, I’ll find something to wear and do a quick workout.

But first, bring on the coffee, for at least another couple of minutes.

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