Before embarking on NaBloPoMo (because I’m going to embark on NaBloPoMo), I need to try and release some guilt.
For the past year or so, I’ve been absolutely terrible at responding to comments. You guys have sent me recipes and words of encouragement and brainy things to think about and prescription recommendations and book reviews and I’m absolutely terrible at thanking you. If I’m going to do NaBloPoMo (because I’m going to do NaBloPoMo), I either need to turn off comments or let the guilt fly out the window like a happy flying thing that flies out the window. Happily.
I don’t really care to elaborate on the following, nor do I wish to reveal if any statements are connected:
Lately I feel that I smell like a poorly-maintained convalescent center.
When I’m sitting at my computer and I look out the window, this is what I see.
Pretty soon it will all be orange and brown and crunchy, and I’ll be burning some sort of autumn-inspired candle and suddenly it won’t matter that I feel like I smell like I’ve been swimming in stuff that doesn’t smell very good.
Tomorrow I’m going on a solo adventure that involves bravery and being touched by a stranger. (I may remove my cardigan, but everything else stays on.) If all goes well, I’ll celebrate with a chai at the place my nose ring friend and I tend to visit after a switch-out.