Streaming thoughts at the end of the day

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For real, Shokufeh? Almost two months? That would explain so much about so much – my mental state, my fatigue, my aches and pains. I should have written it out of me. The last two months have been filled with grant-writing, MrMan-school-applying, future-pondering. But it hasn’t all been bad. There’s also been Super-Bowl-ing, Mardi-Gras-ing, and future-pondering. Now we’re on the other side of all of that. Except the future-pondering. Which tends to be one of my characterizing traits.

Now I’m in my second day of the fast. Which I always want to write as the Fast, because it’s so much more than abstaining from food and drink. It’s reconnecting with my essential self. Or at least trying to. And striving to be a better version of me when I go to bed at night than when I woke up in the (way too early for my normal self) morning.

Randomness of the week: Monday afternoon, we pulled up in front of our house, in the pouring. rain. Pouring. I look out the car window and realize our grass has been cut. It had been looking ragged, but I wasn’t that worried, because most everybody’s does this time of year. The green grass just started poking out a couple of weeks ago, so I was thinking we’d cut the grass this coming weekend. But there it was – cut, and edged. Through the rain, I could see a sign stuck into the grass. Or maybe I should call it lawn, since it was suddenly looking much nicer. The sign read Y@rd D@wgs: M@rking our terr!tory, one y@rd at a time. So the mystery has been solved as to who cut it. Still a mystery: who paid for it?

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