It's dark when I wake up. And cold outside. This morning is a get up and get dressed and leave the house kind of morning.
I have an mri scheduled to look at my beautiful brain. It's louder than than I remember. I breathe and count.
Adjusting to the banging sounds as normal happens quickly and I am started when they suddenly stop.
I wonder if this is how the victims of trauma feel. They become so accustomed to it that when it stops, they don't feel normal.
Home and coffee.
Wrangling words. And scrubbing paint onto small wooden boards. This is the life.
"love you mommi!" he texts me. Aw. Now I'm crying.
Work was long and fulfilling today. I'm blowing past my end time each day though, getting into the flow and not wanting to stop.