Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Twenty-Six
Late start. Cold room. 57 degrees inside. Bonus: less sweat.
Out of decaf. For a brief moment, I consider a little bit of regular coffee.
I’d rather be at home.
They say they enjoy the energy of the space and I understand what they mean by that.
Salad and chips and two mini Snickers bars.
I send ChatGPT a prompt over voice because why not? I just need to decide on the plan and stick to it.
What is the source of this insecurity?
Excited? Yes. Excited.
Small adjustments for big changes. Even my shooting has gotten better over the past few weeks.
He says it’s worth it.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Twenty-Five
Lights on.
Waiting to meditate.
Starting 5.
Another men’s oxford.
Another beautiful sunrise in wine country. Sunlight filters through the morning fog. A few hot air balloons in the distance. 41 degrees.
Freezing cold in here, and only regular coffee.
Another blow. A quick body count. A text to the group. A few helpful responses. Freak out over.
Care of the body.
“The audacity of self-belief.”
Moving from respect toward like.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Twenty-Four
Monday, bloody Monday.
Almost fall asleep during meditation.
Exciting for weather that warrants a thin turtleneck. Time to think about when to have the firewood delivered.
Electrolyte water and decaf and a naked drink while waiting for the sun to rise.
Clarity. Commitment. Consideration. Consistency. Courage. Confidence.
“Dream big dreams.”
“Dare to move forward.”
Less anxious. More excited.
It will be different because I am different.
Shivers. Where’s that firewood?
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Twenty-Three
Sunrise yoga.
I found the pods.
And so it’s done.
Something about this men’s oxford and jeans.
Two more domains.
Who would have though you could—or should—use a spreadsheet for this?!
Sunshowers. Unexpected but welcome.
He says he could tell I was excited. I tell him that it’s just so much fun to be on these calls with other women coaches.
So tenderheaded his toes are curling.
Creatures of habit.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Twenty-Two
Much to be done.
Still no decaf. I begin to plot my morning with the assurance I’ll have time to swing by the market to pay $4.60 for a large cup of coffee.
Meal plan done. Groceries ordered and set to be delivered. Now, a little bit of time to breathe.
I am not late after all.
“She detested fashionable books and knew that time would never allow her to keep up to date.”
It is short and sweet but feels incomplete—nevertheless, a good way to spend a few hours in the shade.
I wonder if anyone else feels this way or thinks these things. I sense the shortness of time that’s left. I am thinking too far ahead.
But what’s with the sneakers and the socks?
Losing light.
I should have just driven myself; I’m not getting any sleep anyway.