d e p l e t e d
The year is 2020. The month is May. The day is 64. Sixty-four days in the COVID-19 era of lockdown. Her left eye opened around 6:17am, while the right eye was sort of stuck together — she once again forgot to remove the contact lenses. As her left hand reached out for her phone and headphones, her right hand stroked her neck — still stiff. Headphones are on and she is ready for her morning meditation, thinking of the future self, letting go of the past, being aware of the present moment in this space. Imagining the distance between her ears in space. Visualizing her own heart pumping fast on a dark-beautiful space in between her chest bones and her mattress. Making pancakes with her kids on a sunny morning, the massive glass doors open to the backyard where the dog is chasing birds and her partner is pouring fresh coffee while cheekily teasing her about a rather enduring client review left on her website the night before. There's laughter, a bit of chaos and a lot of love. Laugh
