I feel oddly restless tonight. I think part of it is the weather, part of it is only having a little under an hour to work out on a day I needed to go hard. I'm cleaning, pacing, feel like I'm waiting for something.

It's been a strange and stressful week--a lot of work drama. Maybe because of that fog, the moments of sweetness have felt especially meaningful. I feel like there are a lot of changes coming in my life. I want to write about light things, but I feel heavy. So I'll tell you this: I'm lying on my back on my clean green sheets thinking about the groundhog I can just barely hear outside the open window, down in my dark garden, eating my expensive, carefully-nurtured plants. There's the sound of water dropping off the leaves when the wind stirs them, and a smell on the air like wet campfire. I feel quiet, but intensely awake, like there's a low, strong, cooking ember burning in me.