How will we ever get off of this hill alive?
This question I ask myself on a regular basis as I contemplate the pros and cons of the life that I find myself living. I have no answer, of course. One day we must leave, and I expect that that will be the day that my fretting and over-thinking will seem like a positive thing. The wise choice would be to enjoy the view while I have the opportunity, though I find myself planning for any potential disasters compulsively. Hedonism and recklessness have never been my thing.
She is seemingly asleep in the stuffy apartment, and so I feel no qualms with watching. My attention wanders occasionally (I spend a lengthy amount of time reconsidering our choice to paint every wall white), though I am thankful for the momentary solace it gives me from the claustrophobia of the room. I blame myself for the discomfort, both mentally and physically; our sheets are too thic