One week with no blogging.
That is actually the first time this year that happened. Usually I get on a kick and keep on blogging or streaming or whatever until something jars me. I have translation work, which is good, but between that, the Fiesta starting up, getting my son his passport, (which has been a hell of an experience, let me tell you) I have just been so tired that writing a blog at night just hasn't happened.
In fact, yesterday I just came home from the doctor, did my laundry, slept until it was done, took it to the laundromat to dry, ate dinner, slept and then woke up at eleven at night which is far too late to pick up laundry from the laundromat.
So I had to do it this morning.
That is not a bad thing, but it is a thing. I somehow made it to work earlier than I had planned. The power of mistakes adding up.
I don't know. It feels like one of those silly, middle-age (Oh, fuck, I'm not that, am I? I'm not dying in my sixties, am I?) breakdowns that are ultimately unimportant but heavy on the brain for some reason.
No one teaches you how to relax.