T-Bex the Mighty

I keep trying to write something that I feel.  Something that makes sense to me, but all that makes sense to me right now is cost of goods sold and maybe my cats.  Maybe.  They've surrounded me, as it's almost dinner time, and they think if they're annoying enough maybe I'll feed 'em early.  They're not wrong either. My mind is this mushy mess of work and self discovery.  I'm sort of. . . stuck. Which I guess isn't always a bad thing.  Maybe I'm supposed to be here for a minute, take in the view.  There's a lot of this part of life that I haven't discovered yet.  There's parts of my brain that want to be explored right now, and I'm finding it difficult.  I've tasked myself to find the things that I can do that will nourish me.  Not just my body, that's pretty easy.  Eat food, move your body, get rest.  That's not actually that difficult. Well, it is.  But it also isn't. It's easy to make it difficult and be i...

I keep telling myself I'm going to write.  I have this outlet here, and I've posted 14 times.  I have 15 unfinished entries.  Just sitting there, waiting to go. I have things to say. I can't seem to do it. WHY? Because.  I'm too busy.  My mind is elsewhere.  I have more important things to do.  Dan needs me.  My cats need me.  Work needs me.  My time is better spent being productive.  Dishes.  Laundry.  Cat boxes.  Netflix.  Dinner. I have a file in my brain just for excuses. I use them when I feel like maybe, just maybe, it doesn't matter if I say anything. I use them when I feel like I might not be good enough to speak, to take up virtual space. But then Leslie Feinberg dies.  She died. My heart is a little broken and I didn't even know that much about her, let alone know her. Pronouns are a little tricky here because of Leslie's nature. I don't have the mental space to educate you al...