You know the feeling when you wake up and simply feel off. Nothing really to it, or rather, you can’t make sense of it—yet, or ever.
In the afternoon, I read 70 pages of Good Material and fell into a post-lunch nap. Something I rarely do. I’m doing better listening to my body, without questioning it too much and learning to reserve judgement, because I’m not quite sure what the point is to all that pressure I put on myself.
I dreamt a weird dream: it’s me watching myself on a screen, donning different costumes, being ridiculed in front of an audience, or something like that. Waking up, convinced I must have been asleep for 50 minutes, I checked the time. 14:12. Only 20, OK. Took me a few more minutes to snap out of the morning haze, and then suddenly I’m so much better, ready to seize the day.
While getting ready to get out for some work done, I went through the usual four coffee shops I frequent on rotation in my head. By the en…
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