Two days away from finishing I think. I had the strange feeling today of that momentum carrying me across the finish line, and thinking back on all the times leading up to this where I worried I wouldn’t get here. Not a rational worry—I knew I would. Or…I knew I could. And the “could” is what was stressful I guess, because there’s a little tiny bit of room for doubt in that word.
But I did it. Like I always should have known I would. I was feeling both gratified in that knowledge that I’d done it, handled my shit like I have so many times before, and also feeling a bit ashamed for having doubted myself. It was just resistance, that doubt, and I often give it too much credit.
We watched Backrooms tonight. It was fun! Not perfect, but we enjoyed it.
Night night.