Chewing ice or trying to wring sweet out of a second of three diet sodas, it occurs that next time I shouldn’t do this so much or plan this better or at least separate time to do this better than I’ve been and probably woulda otherwise, and then well. It’s probably time to admit more.
I mean there’s no need to settle for second best and eight more when I’m just as interesting and interested in myself without this all, and yet, back to a Friday night’s grind’s grind and the TV’s sideways and I’m on my second of three diet sodas. Dammit, dammit so much over.
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