I took the last couple of days off. Got some sleep. Read a little. Watched TV. And I feel better than I have after the last two and a half months.
Three months ago, I was packing for Las Vegas, a combined work/vacation trip. It was educational and productive, but I was on my way home and had a short layover in St. Louis when the first death from COVID-19 was announced.
With 87,000 dead across the U.S. now, we are starting to accept the new normal. Well, most of us are. It means masks and hand washing. It means keeping physical distance. It means new procedures just for going to the doctor and grocery shopping.
In a very selfish way, I'm excited that Starbucks is open again. I may not be able to sit at a table to write, but I can pick up a tea or coffee to take home and write.
Plus, DH and I are cleaning the apartment this weekend. In addition to clean sheets, I plan to reclaim my desk from the pile of paperwork and dust bunnies.
It's easy to say you have to be kind to yourself, but sometimes, it's a lot harder to actually do it.
I Give Up
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Seriously, I just give up. I've been fighting depression brought on by
Seasonal Affective Disorder over the last two months, and my writing is
showing it...
3 hours ago
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