Maybe my body is trying to tell me something.

On my way to an appointment, I step outside and realize I’m still wearing my slippers. Slippers. In November. In the rain.
So… back home again. Four flights up, four flights down. Fine morning workout.

Back outside again, heading for the tram with fresh determination, and halfway there I think: “Huh… feeling light today.”

Right. My backpack is still upstairs. So here we go again: four flights up, four flights down. I’m starting to know this staircase by name.

Third attempt. Seriously, this will be the one. I walk toward the tram and feel almost proud that I haven’t collapsed yet (I genuinely have great health; that helps). Until I remember that the things that *should* have been in that backpack are still happily chilling in the fridge. On to round three. Or four. I’ve lost count.

Maybe my body is trying to tell me something. Maybe it’s time for a day off. So yes, something is definitely disappearing from my schedule in the coming days. Period.

And maybe… I should start taking the elevator. Oh, wait. We don’t have one.