I just need to learn to pace myself. With everything.
And learn that even if something is considered healthy, and it tastes delicious, I probably shouldn’t go back for seconds, because too much of anything, no many how healthy, doesn’t work well for my innards, and I’ll feel the effects later.
Some mornings are hard, get out of bed, have to shower, evaluate the day. Set about it. It improves, usually, as it goes on, no matter what mood my head or my stomach were in first thing. At times, it doesn’t, so I head back home. Down the hill. Past the pretty flowers. But I don’t drive. Not to work. Unless I have “things” to do. Appointments. That need to be rushed to between clients. Between work. Between the outside world.