(30 sec read)
I have a little tickle in my throat, a wheeze in my breath, and I’m pretty stoked.
Here’s why.
Today’s been a down day full of defeated rants and negative self-talk. (Yes, even us die-hard optimists go there!) Things seem insurmountable, everything out of reach. I tried all my tricks and nothing worked.
I hate it when that happens.
It’s so easy to spiral when no one else is in the conversation. By day’s end, the burning reed inside my stomach had escalated to a brushfire. Grotesque and gradiose thoughts of radical life changes, wishes of day-long slumber, rapid-fire pot shots at my ego.
But now I’m free.
By the tickle in my throat, I know it’s the physical me that’s taking down the ship; the psychological me is just along for the ride.
Yes, it sucks, but at least now I don’t have to blame myself, just the germs.