Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Fifty-Two
One more day.
Body weight only.
There’s only one slice left, so why not?
Knowing it won’t work, but trying anyway.
Distracted by the hummingbird feeding on the flower. How cool is it to see, in December, a flower in bloom and a hummingbird flitting about in the sunshine?
Giving oneself permission to let it run its course.
The right kind of soreness.
I tell him that sometimes all you can do is laugh. Because, after all, they’re here to have a good time.
It’s not the work, it’s the people.
It’s always about the people.
