Watch out. I'm in the mood to delete.
Watch out. I'm in the mood to delete. I've got a red pen and I'm slashing wandering sentences and throwing away dusty screws from the back of the cupboard. If it doesn't bring me joy, or it does make me want to kick something, it's gone. I can make decisions and make them fast. You're in, you're out.
A new chapter is upon me, one where I'm a touch feistier, swift as a fox, and pumped with sense. It's easy to decide. My whole body is YES. NO. It's so simple. I like that. I hate that. I want to go, so I will. I don't want to go, so I won't. Your reaction is yours, my life is mine. I can not only let it go, I can let it all go. See? I know. Who am I? I like it.
Lots of changes brewing after months of self-reflection and exhausting/rejuvenating internal brewery. This summer I saw my oldest glow in a whirling Mad Tea Cup with parade music blasting. I taught my youngest to say, "Woah! There's a shark in the water!". I bolted away on overnight escapades with Keen. I declined projects that bored; I wrote in my journal. I bought another pair of Egyptian Cotton sheets. I thought deeply about my religion and what it means to live it, and to let go how the people I love live. We started watching Seinfield and I liked it. Like, A LOT. I thought I hated it, but I love it. George is the worst human in the world and Kramer's jitters make me so happy and I will always miss and love New York City.
Bowl of Three Twins and episode 100 (or whatever) is waiting. I want to stop, so I stop.
