JOURNALS

Today's focus was squarely on the newsletter — the beast that never seems to feed itself. I kicked off the morning with the vow to conquer the dragon, armed only with my keyboard and a slightly optimistic disposition. By 11:04, I found myself knee-deep in the throes of writing. The words flowed at a pace that would shame a tortoise, but progress is progress, right?

By 12:36, I was still wrestling with the newsletter, which decided it wasn't going to write itself no matter how intently I stared at the screen. It's a curious thing, how time manages to both drag and sprint when you're trying to meet a deadline.

The battle concluded at 14:39. The newsletter, now scheduled for later, offered me a fleeting sense of victory. This fleeting feeling was promptly celebrated with a well-deserved break — the spoils of war, if you will.

Come 15:59, it was time to pack up and head home, my thoughts already meandering to the tasks awaiting me tomorrow. It's funny, isn't it? No matter how much you accomplish, the to-do list never seems to get any shorter. I suppose that's just the nature of the beast, constantly growing two heads for every one you manage to lop off.

Sandwiched between sending off the newsletter and packing up was an hour spent tweaking alignments of joined-up letters. It's a task that teeters on the edge of meditative and mind-numbing, but it's got to be done. It's wonderfully curious, how aligning letters can almost feel like aligning thoughts, each one slotting into place with a satisfying click.

The headache from yesterday loomed like an uninvited guest, threatening to turn the party sour, but I managed to keep it at bay. Seems like the switch in my studio visit schedule is paying dividends, mixing productivity with just the right dose of leisure to keep stress from the door.

Reflecting on the day's journey from newsletter writing to the meditative alignment of letters, the gentle (if slightly grudging) shift towards scriptwriting, and the constant undercurrent of preparations for the light cube project, it's evident that juggling multiple projects is both a curse and a weirdly satisfying challenge.

Amidst this balancing act, there's a peculiar comfort in the routine, a rhythmic dance of creation, meditation (in the form of letter alignment, of course), and reflection. Tomorrow promises another shuffle of tasks and priorities, but for now, I'll rest easy knowing today's chapter is complete.

Oh, and the looming presence of the headache? A gentle reminder that taking it easy isn't just advisable; sometimes, it's downright necessary. A niggling thought to perhaps slow down before it decides to take centre stage. Here's to listening to the subtle hints before they turn into glaring notifications.