Life follows stationary.

If my hands are a barometer of my overall wellbeing, then my overall wellbeing is rough, knawed off, peeling, a little sore, and its lifting calluses haven’t been moisturized in weeks.  In order to admit a little more optimism into my routine, I have begun using a scheduler which reads on the front “A fervent hope.  I am sure to be successful in taking it.”  On the back is a yellow duck looking longingly at a pair of pink and white polk-a-dot underpants hanging on a faraway clothesline.

As I have actually started keeping track of my money since I bought a balance book that advises “save money” and is adorned by two winking Swiss children, a bear in liederhosen, two mice in vests, and “The delicious cookies smell made our mouth water,”  there is reason to think that life might follow stationary.

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