accept myself

Sometimes I think the smarter I think I am, the more of a nit I’ve become. I’ve become a bad procrastinator, but instead of going easy on myself after the death of both my grandparents, a divorce (however amicable and friendly), my first (and last) excruciating heartbreak, and burnout after Hurricane Wilma, I pound on myself until there’s tears. How on Earth can anyone accomplish anything in that kind of frenzied state? I don’t know, but I’m going to clean the house before my pals get here tonight and just relax. The world’s problems aren’t going to be solved tonight.

If I talked to my friends like I talk to myself, I wouldn’t have any. I’m thinking that’s a sign right there.