. Tossing & turning & weird dreams.
. Everything hurts. She'll be glad to know that my glutes are finally sore.
. I don't want to hurry so I walk. The moon is out. The air is thick. Cicadas, crickets, Eastern Cottontail rabbits, a bat. It feels good to take my time.
. A car slowly creeps past me as I cut through a parking lot and I think about how I'd have to drop my backpack if I need to run. A few blocks later a man is picking up cigarette butts from the porch of Wildcat Market. We are the only two people on this street and it is still dark. If I look over my shoulder, will I provoke him? I look anyways. Am I just being paranoid?
. Horoscope today: A crucial decision concerning a heartfelt dream needs to be made. It’s one you never thought you could ever make, but the sky is urging you to stop doubting, dithering and hesitating. So is this where I withdraw my retirement savings and go live in a van on the shores of Georgian Bay?
. She tells me that I'm not paranoid.
. I pull out all the yoga props. It’s been ages since I’ve done anything that resembles a yoga practice. I set myself up for supported legs-up-the-wall and take myself through a body scan. This. Feels. Amazing.
. I pull back the husks and there’s a giant caterpillar staring at me. Gah! This ear of corn is half rotted. The other two are also full of rot and caterpillars. I’m too grossed out to even contemplate salvaging the good parts.
. She asks me how I know when it’s time to give up on a book. I say when I no longer look forward to reading it. I take my own advice and move on.
. I just need a good night’s sleep.