Emotional Equivalent: Disembodied Jheri Curl
Waddled down hill to cafe for etherwaves. New housing unit does not yet transmit. Another shade of limbo, which would be not un-alright were it not for the high-energy choad barrista guy who was not singing but song styling along full blast with Boz Scaggs' "Lido." My soul would have died had it still been alive to hear it.
Boxes everywhere, the to do list grows longer and the done list is a lie I tell myself to retain the curl.
"It's all good," the barrista choad would probably say, and at this point I'd have to agree. Ungrounded, nervous, and exhausted still, yet happy somewhere up in here where "The Self" once lived.