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I didn’t get around to setting my goals for the week. I may not set them at all. I want to have a week of freedom from expectation, especially my own. Perhaps I need a break every once in a while from all the things I (think I) want to do. I want to do nothing. I want to not think so much or worry so much. I want to be a little more here an now, a little more focused on what is material and real, what I can control.

The upside is I feel like taking care of myself a little more. I’m walking and exercising more, eating better, and taking my meds. Getting up on time is easier and I feel less anxious about how I should spend the days. Moving, cleaning, taking care of things, this may be what I need most now.

Still, even if I’m not doing it I’m thinking about writing and there is a chance that that is the real goal. Maybe I just need to do more in order to create more and with so few ways to experience or explore the world I have to delve into dark corners of the yard and the basement and fish out what inspiration I can find there instead. It’s sad, but inspiring. There is a part of me that is trying to thrive even in these uncertain and confining conditions.