Morning stretch

It feels very strange to call myself a writer and not write in a meaningful capacity; I have my job, sure, which requires a lot of writing; a store which I half-ass a lot of marketing copy for (or really excel at, when I’m in that particular mood). But other than Instagram captions and the occasional self-indulgent and self-deprecating tweet, I feel like I’ve forgotten what it’s like to write for fun and to get my feelings out in an unconfined space. This is the morning, I think. This is the stretch before I get down to the real work of it.

Breathe, one, two, three.

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