This bedroom is awesome. My bed is awesome. The heavy fluffy comforter is awesome. I sleep motionless and deeply.
The waking up part is less awesome. I walked a lot yesterday and I’m not used to that yet, so my muscles remind me of that when I stand. I’m telling myself that will get better as it becomes more accustomed to the new routine, rather than it’s just my body getting older.
My regular routine would have been to go back to sleep at this stage. 6am is to early to rise, but it’s better to be up and preparing rather than risk the groggy feeling of a second morning sleep.
So I’m up, still working my brain hard in flip flopping, “I want to give up” and “I can do this” internal conversations.
It’s a good move forward. The right steps to return to a more normal, financially more stable existence. I’m just in the pre-game jitters worrying needlessly about all the hard parts.
The commute is simple enough. A walk to a bus stop that will seem fresh and nice today, but horrid when the weather shifts. Only one transfer point all the way to a Tim Hortons donut shop destination and another “short” walk to the store. My brain is already worrying how financially stable I really will be if I am adding taxis and donuts into my budget when I do t feel up for a short walk in bad weather.
I’m being negative. I’m worrying. Part of believes it, and part of me remembers that I’m always happy around people. I’ve missed it. I can do it. I will do it and people will not complain.
Unless they do complain and I fail.