We're Okay.
I’ve been thinking about houses. Big houses, small houses, old houses, new houses. I have an idea of what sort of house I’m hoping to find, but I’m trying to be realistic with my expectations. Trevor thinks it’ll sort itself out, convinced the pieces will align perfectly without any additional effort. He doesn’t seem to understand how planning with intention works. It’s become my pet project between all the usual bullshit keeping me busy.
If anything, it fills a unique void?
Yesterday was a sick day. I spent time in bed being generally useless, which caused very little issue, surprisingly. If I’m honest with myself, I should slow down. Less anxiety, more naps.
Fuck, I’m always tired. Right this second? Exhausted.
Maybe I’ll write something. Maybe I won’t.
Cheers, Kat