I’m in love with salted dark chocolate.
Not sure if that’s worth a blog post. Still, there it is. I’m keeping my hands busy so I don’t reach for another serving.
There I go again. I just took another square.
I feel completely justified in this, though. I’m tired. (So, what’s new?) I feel like a child who wants to dig her toes into the ground: I don’t want to go to school.
In less pretty terms, I’m grumpy. Don’t get me wrong – I still laugh most things off. Yet, I can’t help but feel the world has it in for me. That’s conceited, of course. The world has far more complicated things to worry about than my fatigue and my scars and my stress levels.
I’m going to write. There’s little else I can do at this point. Maybe that counts as productivity (ha, if I were doing an English major).