I did it. Or...didn't do it...

I feel better about life in general when I have a purpose. A focus.

Thursday and Friday?

Instead of being steadfast in my social media posting, I spent two days basically with my cat, Murphy.

I have no regrets. 

He's happiest when I'm posted up in my rocker recliner, and he lays, like a toddler, over me.

Everyone needs a break.

Everyone. Needs. A. Break.

For maybe fifty or so years of my life, I didn't subscribe to that. I totally dismissed it.

Because the harder I worked, the better I felt about myself. 

I had purpose.

Thanks for those across the years that paid into telling me that, at every turn. 

I would finish writing a book.

Immediately start another. 

I would start cleaning and do so until

I felt as though I would throw up.

But...the PROGRESS...🖕

Progress is brilliant, don't get me wrong. But at what price? How much are you actually giving for that perception of yourself?

Too much, my darlings, too much.

I'm on Threads and understand, but am appalled at, all the authors overwhelmed and treading water. 

I see you.

I know you.

I AM you.

I suggest we all take a little break for mental health. Spend time alone. Spend time with your favorite person or people. Spend time with family. But spend time. Because you don't get to take that shit with you.