I now have the freedom to stay up late, brush the dust off books that must have thought they’d been long forgotten, address the nooks and crannies in my life that need personal attention.
But, in all honesty, the first one hundred and twenty hours have only been filled with self reflection, trepidation, fear and anxiety. My demons haunt my thoughts with inability, dread, and failure.
I list out things to do to occupy myself over the next couple of months.
I’ve never had this much freedom.