Sixty-eight degrees, scattered clouds.
I get to work at farriswheels’ kennel this afternoon.
This is like one of those summer mornings in Lincolnton where I would spend the entire day outside, either building a dog house, restoring an old bicycle, or just walking 10 miles around Clarks Hill Lake just for the fun of it. I accomplished something much bigger than building a thing. I lost myself in the task, not focusing on page limits or semantics, only to build myself in that process.
My next cycle of writing projects will be due starting the 28th, but right now it’s nice to be productive on a very different level; moving legs and arms instead of just my left wrist as I write.
