Yesterday was one of those days that I told myself was going to be fabulous (full-on writing, morning and afternoon, no stress) even though I knew in my gut it would be 100% lousy.
My gut was right. Plus, I ended it at a meeting instead of in bed with a box full of bonbons.
Great discovery of the day:
ketchup potato chips don't taste nearly as good as I remember.
all-dressed ruffles tasting even better.
I am telling myself that today will be good. Not fabulous, just good. No writing, but some knitting, and not a ton of stress, though some. And this time my gut agrees. Even the part that still feels lousy about all the chips. Bleh.