More darkness. More rain.

How is it already the last day of February?

I bring the vision board downstairs to my desk and place it front and center.

Sitting there, I can feel my own energy; it is low and distant.

Carnitas. I sit in the chair by my desk and eat quietly. They are trying to figure out why the system is not communicating with the thermostat. We thought it would be an easy fix, but it is not. “At least we know we’ll be cool come June,” I say. “We won’t still be here, will we?” she says in response.

This is the new deadline.

The rain starts and stops and starts again. It is both a nuisance and a relief. But I’d rather be at home listening to it pound against the rooftop while I lay in bed.

In so many ways, we are both the same.

I do a temperature check on the situation. Not much has changed.

So, so, so tired.