Terrible, which is why I’m burying this mid-July.
I’m drinking water and taking vitamins and making every excuse ever to avoid the gym, even when I see the charge hit my card. NEXT WEEK. I go back NEXT WEEK or else I’m cancelling the membership less than 1 year after joining. I lived through my colonoscopy. I’ll make the dermatologist appointment when I get home from Virginia Beach and hope this stupid sunburn (I used SPF! I sat beneath an umbrella!) fades before I go.
I am dutifully writing my 30 Postcards to Voters. I am diligently failing in finding an electrician who will answer calls.
The front lawn is doing better than normal, sans fertilizer. Slowly, ever so slowly the thicker grass is moving across the lawn.
I finished crocheting a Wooble, painted the UP model house, attempted to juggle, but need to get back to practicing watercolor. The redacted mental health goals have gone to crap as well.
But there’s always next month, which is this month. (nervous laugh)
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