Lately it’s all hot chocolate and long walks. Therapy appointments at 8:30 AM and enthusiastic customers right before close. I smoke cigarettes outside of Andrew’s apartment and hope that someone will come out or go in. Phone left at home and so I start debating throwing rocks at the window.
An exercise in writing a blog post every day turns into a exercise in looking for things to say. And I often find myself scraping what feels like the bottom of the bucket. Sludge. This is sludge.
This weekend I will go to the baby shower of my best friend. Then head south to meet my nephew for the first time. Surrounded by new signs of life even as winter approaches. The days are dark earlier, but I haven’t seemed to notice. We keep our heads down and keep on going.
Your sludge is pretty perfect.
-T
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You. ❤
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I share the feeling of the daily post exercise, so let us praise sludge. Signs of new life are precious. Enjoy them.
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I plan to.
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
Pretty good sludge
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Anything and everything you write, I want to read. None of it is sludge. None.
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Thank you.
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