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this morning, like most days, I wake before he does. Lying here I listen to his quiet snoring competing with the birds' morning song


They both makes eggs for breakfast and it smells so fucking delicious. I'm allergic to eggs and on mornings like this I want to eat eggs so badly. Why do we want the things that are not good for us?


Black Panther. Holy yes. thank you, more please


the new privacy fence is almost up and I am beginning to feel safer, more grounded. I definitely believe these things are related


the wind is swirling and twirling the leaves in the yard in a dance beyond their control


sometimes I over explain myself because I don't feel like he understands me.  I am exasperated at the language barrier. Maybe less words would be better


another day and things have dropped off the to do list and I have to remind myself of the words I said to them yesterday. So you failed. You are not a failure


Throwing that particular F word around may seem over dramatic but I am reaching so fervently for a routine, for structure to the day, and I can't quite seem to get there for more than a moment. It feels just out of my reach


Dishes in the sink agitate me. And I know that it's not really important at all. But still I am on edge at the end of the night. Maybe I am just tired.