Weeknotes 38 - Moody teen
- My barber, Steve, asked me if I’d been out last night. I froze in terror, trying to recall whether I’d drunk enough for him to be able to tell somehow. Turns out it was the glitter still stuck to my scalp and face that gave it away.
- I went running the other morning, and for the whole day I was feeling happy and attentive. The moody teen in me totally hated it.
- I’ve got lots of you know, stuff, to do this weekend, so I’m phoning it in on the weeknotes front this time.
- Questions like “why did I ever commit to writing every week” are on my mind a lot.