Like A Church
Unworking Issue 007
The time I spend in the morning in the kitchen, house empty except for me and the hum of the fridge in the background, is priceless. I fail to take it as my own too often, though, and I fall foul of busyness. Juggling one thousand things in the misled belief that I am getting somewhere, achieving something, but achieving little except the fuelling of a frayed, irritated and overwhelmed mind.