All work and no fun, makes me one grumpy bug.
Actually, not work. The ending of time at the end of the day. I mourn it in my own deep dark way.
It's a frustration of knowing life has limitations measured in minutes, seconds, ages.
Put some candles and put a mask on the face. Helps fix it.
Houses are more fragile than they seem.
Careful you don't pull to hard at the seams.
Closed up, the house maxed out today at 77 degrees.
We got things accomplished, let the universe lead us.
I subscribe to a newsletter called Down The Rabbit Hole, and it sometimes shares odd words and their meanings.
This episode includes the word Volta.
Riding horses, we were always working on the volte, but some of my European friends called it volta.
Funny how much time I've heard people invest to argue the correct terminology.