We did what we were asked. Others didn’t and now it’s getting worse… *sigh* Most of my exercise these days comes from disgustedly shaking my head.
Let’s catch up on My Corona.
Tag / Introvert
Tar-ona Update Numero Nueve
Things are getting better, in that I’m back to my usual stuff and nonsense, just now I wear a mask to visit the Starbucks drive-thru and to walk around the block. Let’s catch up on My Corona.
Tar-ona Update Numero Ocho
Things are picking up what with my area being in yellow (up? down? from red). I still am hibernating — it’s my natural state. Life’s sense of humor continues, unabated. Let’s catch up on My Corona.
Tar-ona Update Numero Seis
The days of the week have names and I now know which is which (after two months+ on lockdown). The date? No clue. Please consult a calendar. Let’s catch up on My Carona.
Tar-ona Update Numero Tres
Honest to blog, I thought this was week four of the updates. It’s SatThurSun today, right? Let’s catch up on My Carona.
Tar-ona Update Numero Dos
After watching Canada’s Prime Minister’s updates in French (and English), I wish now I’d used that lovely language in my titles instead of Spanish. Let’s catch up on My Carona.
Thursday Doors: Deep In the Heart
As I write this post and look through recently past ones, I realize I was rocking a personal theme of visiting all my happy places in the past few months. I was unawares, but there it is, in all its bloggy glory. Stressors of all kinds had me pulling out all the stops to try and refill my introvert well (to no avail, at the time). Looking back, though, I’m so proud of Past Me for trying (all those years of reading, studying, venting to professionals, learning all the zen tips one can — apparently pay off).
But let’s not revisit the reasons for the running for respite (all hail alliteration!) that led me to the location for this post. Let’s just focus on the goodness of it, the joy of it, and the gloriousness of doors.
Packing some peace
Did you know that the best laid plans go wherever socks disappear to? Although I read on the Internets lately that socks mostly get lost somewhere in the washer’s inside doohickeys and often end up out the water pipe, hence they should always be in a zipped sock bag. So let’s go with the best laid plans end up wherever all my pens and ponytail holders do, some nether region I couldn’t find on a map if I tried, a magical place propelled by a similarly magical force of pilfering, i.e., stealing said items never to be seen again.
WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?
I’m glad you asked.
Thursday Doors: Sea Me
I had forgotten what a letdown the days after meeting a huge challenge/goal can be. After all that preparation and anticipation of singing my solo in choir’s concert, I deflated like a balloon a couple days after the party ends. Seeing how busy the calendar was going to get soon (at work, blech), I decided that respite (and reward!) by the sea was required.
It was just long enough.
It’s never long enough.
These Three Things, Two
These three things, they randomly are.
Written quick, read by those afar.
Drivel, pointless; thoughts, disjointed.
Very low blogging bar…
Welcome to a random day when my brain is all WHAT? And when that happens, it’s all like, “Share this with the people!” (This happened in February and is happening again. You’re welcome.)
