false positive

I don't want to eat this peach.

I'm posting now, at 8am, my newly adopted "bedtime", in that for the past week I've been crawling between the sheets as the rest of the time zone arrives at work, having done my work while they slept.

Except this isn't my bedtime anymore. After waking up at 6pm yesterday, I decided these dissynchronous shennanigans had gone on long enough, and it was necessary to stay up 24 or more hours for realignment to take place.

The peach is part of a care package of fresh food Reagan left for me before going to bed. There was also a pear, some cookies, and a croissant. The pear and most of the cookies and all my water are gone. I'm not hungry, exactly, but the peach smells good.

After another 12 hours of wakefulness I'll be posting again, as in the time I lived one day the rest of the world lived two, and I'd like to respect that.

So far the day has been very thoughtful, brimming with political philosophy, political fiction, and some wonderful time buckling down and getting some drawing done. I'm in that phase right now. While I was reading, studying the world, and talking with Reagan I was confronted with new thoughts that implore me to make decisions and define my values. This is a daily topic, a daily struggle for me, and there are always more questions than answers.

But I press on.

I really don't want to eat this peach. I may need to survive another three and a half hours on the the peach, the croissant, and the one cookie left. I should ration. But this peach... its flesh is delightfully firm, and its skin is soft, and even at arm's length it smells of summer and outside and sun.

I don't want to eat this peach, yet, but it smells so so so good.




There is nothing false about my personal positivity, just that I normally use a post to indicate the end of the day.