Another Day

I really do not think I am an effective writer. I’m not sure if I care. I doubt there are very many effective readers out there.

Oh well, here we go, another day in super-sped-up time continuum in which I simply put one foot in front of the other, over, and over, and over and over and over. I get no further and accomplished nothing and am dead tired before sundown. I only worked 6 hours, why should I be so tired? Is it because I made pancakes for breakfast? Made coffee in a French Press? Walked to work in 100+ heat?

I don’t know, but I feel out of balance as far as eating and sleeping go. I want to sleep all morning and stay up all night.

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