I am carrying ten pounds more than six months ago.
I am powerless against baked goods.
I am avoiding exercise since joining the gym.
I am not flossing on a regular basis.
I am an artist who is making more trouble than art.
I am afraid that winter will never end.
I am aware of how ridiculous that sounds.
I am even more afraid of growing old alone.
I am loathing my chin hairs.
I am easily distracted.
I am prone to apathy and reticence.
I am uncertain what reticence means.
I am certain that I want a drink before dancing.
I am aware of how pathetic that sounds.
I am wondering if I'm ready to stop eating meat.
I am missing the hummingbirds.
I am embarrassed that I haven't shaved my legs in a really long time.
I am already sad about my daughter leaving home for college.
I am still regretting that I never went.
I am brave today.
I am scared.
I am delighted.
I am distraught.
I am all of these things.
I am nothing at all.
It is February.
The longest month with the fewest days.
And today is the 16,198th day of my journey.
I accept and give thanks for it all.