I’m fine. Fine fine fine fine fine fine. Just fine.
Fine.
Not at all stressed. Not at all full of tasks that clearly have to get done exactly this minute, this minute precisely, so that I don’t have to think. Yep, what I am is fine.
It’s hard to believe that four years of this nightmare have plodded onward, four awful, terrible years, and tomorrow it could all get worse or finally end. It’s a lot.
So I’ll keep trying to do five things at once, watching the day spin away, waiting. And waiting.
Uh-huh.
Fine.
Have as good a Monday as you can.