Usually I’m like “Fuck the police” but… uh…
All day yesterday I thought I was chilly because I have a cold, turns out nope, our boiler had broken down. Either way, going on 24 hours of no heat and the sniffles. Tea and fuzzy hoodies are keeping me going. I am posting hot fucking people all day to try and keep warm.
Where does it come from? That force that keeps me moving when I want to curl up and cry? That voice that pushes me on when I’m digging in my heels and out of breath? That trickle of strength just when I’m sure I’m at the end of my rope? When I’m tapped out, run down, exhausted…
Then I remind myself I was the little girl who refused to say ‘mercy’ when my uncles wrestled me, even when it hurt, because I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.
Sometimes life is what you make it.