feeling like
I feel like pretty much everything I can think of saying here this morning, hopefully worthy of your attention, I’ve already said recently. Age stuff and struggling artist stuff and book/writing stuff and life in this big city. A few facts are – I’m missing two of the next three days of work – a young lady’s medical and Ann’s medical – so no money, and we’re supposed to get another big rainstorm this weekend here in the southern-most-ness of southern California, and today is opening day of the Major League Baseball season.
Which I just did, report that stuff, and it feels like enough this Thursday.
It’s so much better to put it out there. Somehow that relieves the tension somewhat. Even if just a little bit. I do it in meetings. You do it here. Why is exposing our sadness so cathartic? Thank you.