I like waking up in a warm bed in the winter. Peeking out the window, I know its heavy coat weather out there, and I instantly want coffee and music playing while I linger a little longer than usual here. I slept well, though the thermostat was a little too high.
I should be sore from the gym last night but I’m not. Maybe I’m not working out hard enough, but I do believe I’m pushing. It was Sarah’s 31st birthday, an over-achieving friend and figure competitor. I haven’t worked out with her in over a year and she came to hang out last night with me. She super lean right now, as she’s preparing for a competition in Miami next week. I’m impressed with not only her ambition, but her positivity. Both combined traits are rare in my life. Maybe I ought to remedy that.
I had a few days off from tattooing this week. My head feels jumbled and unfocused. I’m lacking direction and aimless. There are just so many things I want to do that nothing’s getting done. My addiction to productivity has subsided with each passing day. I’m taking a siesta for a while to redefine what success and happiness means for me. I’m visualizing, and boiling it down. I have no idea what’s going to come of it nor do I want to have any expectations. I only want to enjoy this warm bed, right now. And my coffee.