"Storms, Sweat, and Slight Adulting"

 

Today felt like the universe triple-dog-dared me to be productive. Work was chaos. Not "oops-we’re-out-of-coffee" chaos. I’m talking full-on Black Friday-in-a-mall energy. People. Everywhere. Noise. Tasks multiplying like gremlins. You’d think my meat-cutting gig was hosting the Super Bowl of Steak.

By the time I clocked out, I was mentally fried—but somehow still convinced myself to go to the gym. (Pause for applause. No, really. I deserve an Oscar for Best Performance in “Dragging My Ass to Cardio.”)

The gym was a blur of sweat, headphones, and questioning all my life choices. But I showed up. I lifted. I did cardio. I left feeling like a soggy rotisserie chicken—but, like, a strong one.

Once I got home, I was greeted by my dog, who was either happy to see me or just thrilled someone was finally going to feed him. We played for a few minutes—aka he zoomed around while I tried not to trip over my own legs—and then I fed him like the good dog parent I pretend to be.

Then... boom. Thunder. Like nature itself was angry I skipped laundry day again. The skies opened up with that dramatic flair only thunderstorms can pull off, and suddenly, I was in the middle of a cozy horror movie—but with pasta and leftovers instead of a haunted doll.

Dinner was peaceful. Like, actual peaceful. No screens. Just me, the rain, and the sweet satisfaction of putting everything away right after eating. (I know. Who am I?)

And then, like the real adult I’m becoming one HVAC consultation at a time, I finally made a decision about my heating and cooling system. Because nothing screams “personal growth” like choosing between financial ruin or sweating/freezing to death in silence. Spoiler: I went with the option that wouldn’t make my wallet cry too hard.

Progress is progress, right?

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