Small pieces. Pieces I’m breathing in. On top of intestinal dismay.
Just not my day. Didn’t get to the projects I’d wanted to at work; could barely function as was without total discomfort.
But I managed to pull through.
Tomorrow we’re getting paid. Tomorrow I can crash hard after.
I have so much still to do, and my summer’s predominantly gone.
Where has time escaped me?
I wonder it all the time.
For now, though, I’ll lightly mull it over good classical music and a little bit of rest following soon after.
Life’s funny in all retrospects, really.