Just sat writing another post. I don’t usually write more than one post a day, but today it just feels right – like the kind of day that’s not asking for much. Just a bit of reflection, maybe a cup of tea, maybe a biscuit if I can be bothered to stand up and go and look for one.

it just feels grey. Not metaphorically, dramatic – just literally physically, grey. I haven’t been outside (“let’s not get carried away”) but from the bay windows I can see the sky trying very hard to rain and failing at it, in a very British sort of way.

And honestly? I like grey days. They match something in me. Not sunny and cheerful, not stormy and brooding – just somewhere in the middle. Real. Grey days feel like human days

And I’m doing okay actually, I woke up just before 8 – which is a win, even if I did snooze my alarm like it was a sport and stayed in bed for another two hours doing the doom scroll of dome. I didn’t have anywhere to be but I’m trying to get into the habit of waking and sleeping at human times, not owl times, not Victorian ghost times, just times.

So far today, I’ve Had my morning coffee, Wrote a post today about something that happened yesterday.

Currently watching YouTube and slowly morphing into the sofa I’ve been watching people do the coast-to-coast hikes, learning how to walk up and down a hill properly.

“apparently there’s a correct way?”

And now I’m watching Kelly and her dog trotting happily along another trail. I love watching these people. I do, but there is something about just watching them has drained every bit of energy from me.

“Where are the chocolate hobnobs? And why hasn’t the tea started making itself?”

Even my dog RaRa looks grey today. She’s hot even with her cooling mat under her, she has this expression of someone who deeply regrets having fur.

So yes, that’s today. A grey, very human, not going-anywhere kind of day. And for once I’m not going to fight it.