What does the rest of my life look like?

It’s late, and I’m about to attempt an early…well, it’s too late for early, but at least not late night, so this is something of a placeholder. But while I still have no energy, I’m realising that my growing frustration with that lack is actually a form of moving forward. One of these days I’m going to get thoroughly sick of my fat, sluggardly self and actually go for a run, or break out the fabric stash, or rehabilitate the second hand bed that’s sitting on my decking.

Tonight I’m just going to lie in bed and think about my new life. It’ll happen.


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