Washing off the baggage of the day. Sometimes the day sits heavy over the evening like smog stuck in the valley.
I leave work. I am hungry. I am feeling spent from wheels of my mind turning fast to prioritize, make better, stay ahead and finish what I should.
Sometimes, during the day, a comment, thought or perceived mood sticks to me. Today it was a storm cloud of taking someone’s word for it and then having to eat my own. It left me storming all day.
I come home thinking, “I. Am. Done.” Maybe I only need a break.
The idea always takes me back to a blue and yellow plaid couch. My legs are hooked over the arm of the couch. Brandon is moving around the kitchen. I close my eyes. I slow to stillness. My mind goes black.
My hands rest on my abdomen.
I breathe and nothing else for ten minutes.
When I emerge from the mental cocoon, my day is washed away and I can start the evening. Fresh.