I’m sick, and it’s late. I came home and my room is still a wreck. I manage to hang up my jacket. This is fine. I’ve been so jetlagged and tired the last week and a half, I haven’t worked out. The mirror shows awkward curves reforming. I force myself through a short workout, but my sore throat reminds me that I need rest. This is fine. I have a meeting in the morning, an article due tomorrow, a presentation to create, and a stack of thank you notes to write. There are so many hats on my head, I’m no longer certain which hat was there in the first place. This is fine.

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