August 24th, 2020 – 698

Today was a good day. I was at my desk for the first time in five months, and the focus and drive that gave me was immense. I found a peace that’s been gone for so long now. I got a lot of walking in, and hit the rowing machine right after getting in. And yet, none of that was what made today special.

I didn’t have to write The Wanderer. Words cannot express the burden that lifts. I might just be ok.