I’m scared. I’m not making any promises and I know my body never promises anything.
Maybe it’s because I’ve been *making* myself sleep; especially when things don’t make sense to me. I’ve been kind to myself. I haven’t forced the work sitch. I’ve refused to feel guilty. I’ve accepted being sick. I’ve realized that I took a HUGE hit this year.
HUGE. just really big.
I handled myself classy. And I’m scared to believe it might be over. That I might be finished waiting through.
I might be rewarded.
I might be well.
So I am going to ignore my body today, and work. Because that’s just what I do.
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