I just finished painting my office and I am wiped. It was one of these mad projects that one should probably not attempt and definitely not when operating on a sleep-deficit the size of Indiana. But it had to be done. I had to reclaim my space or people were going to be found behind the sofa, mauled.
I also probably shouldn't be writing this...or write at all, because at all times there are other things that are probably more important: Bloody knees, verb conjugations, food burning... but then, again, those bodies come to my mind and I decide to sit down to type a few lines that connect me to who I am, who I was, who I want to be, who I will be, would be, can be, should be...
Whoever said, life is easy is a lier. I don't think anyone ever did though.
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