Life is generally good. Right? I say that to myself a lot. Like, really, sherdie, if you think about this properly, get some perspective, life is actually pretty damn sweet.
But then sometimes I feel like dirt.
And when that happens, I’ll often make some tea. Hot tea, iced tea, black, green, rosehip, mint from the garden. Any kind. Sometimes a few kinds.
My brain wants to be that person who can STAY TOUGH and PUSH THROUGH and GET ALL THE THINGS DONE and MAKE IT RIGHT. My internal organs disagree and want to avoid and organise sneaky rebellions so I have to sleep and move slowly and eat okayu and be still instead of MOVEMOVEMOVE. It’s a fundamental disconnect. And neither side is right. But there is a balance in there that I often struggle to find.
The tea doesn’t fix things, but it does remind me that it is just a job, and they are just people.