Any time now…
I have to be patient. Again. And I hate being patient. It may be good for me, like walking lunges, peas, and tooth-flossing, but I don’t have to like it.
Maybe I’m not cleared up enough yet. Sure, I’ve removed a bunch of actual physical clutter, but my head is still full of timetables, semi-coalesced goals, curiosity about what the other hidden storage places hold, lists, and, now that I’ve mentioned it, a certain amount of guilt about not flossing my teeth.
Would somebody please take out my mental trash? It’s full.