I wrote greetings because I had no idea how to open an email that I still haven't assigned an idea to. (Not that I readily assign topics to emails, this is usually a ramble about something I'm passionate about for whatever breath I'm having while tromping away at the keys) I thought to myself "I need a greet- Greetings" and started typing mid thought.
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One thing that's on my mind surrounding this silly little newsletter I have set out to write is the mix of y'all. Its so interesting to me, and I really do appreciate all of you, strangers, friends, family, its really neat the blind support you showed me providing me with your email. I also wanted to mention that I do monitor the email these come from. In fact, I set it up specifically for this project. I say this not to encourage or dissuade you from replying, but simply to let those who are so inclined to reach out know that even if I don't reply ( I haven't replied to anyone, don't get butt hurt) I do read them, and this is my acknowledgement for all past and future emails.
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Anyway, I'm somewhat over my little fit I was throwing last Sunday night. I've put myself in Instagram jail and only allow myself 5 minutes a day, then I have to stare at the little greyed out icon mocking me for my inability to be self disciplined. I figured exposure therapy would be the best way to break the habit, having the constant reminder of its sinister ways and minimal exposure might help desensitize my cracked out lil dopamine receptors. I think I understand the neuroscience, but I'm not a doctor. Regardless, I'm definitely still in a bit of a mood (for your reference its only Tuesday) I'm a virgo rising and before I exiled Instagram some stranger said theres planets doing things to me specifically because of the time I was born and the moon is, well, whatever, I'm in a mood and its allowed.
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Do I have any idea why I am in this mood? Maybe. It's likely stress related, and I do know the source of my stress and am actively making steps to remove the stress, so lets see how many more times I can use the word stress.
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Fast forward- it’s Sunday night. I’ve got a fat slice of bland pizza in front of me, and zero gas in the tank to be much more witty than this.
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