Permission Granted

Sometimes you just can’t.

Can’t make dinner.

Can’t go to the gym.

Can’t get out of bed.

Can’t eat one more salad.

Can’t be at the publishing party.

Can’t get the proposal in on time.

Can’t sit there for another minute.

Can’t volunteer for one more thing.

Can’t get out of your sweatpants (not the Lulu’s or the athleisure ones — the frumpy ones with a stain on them - or the Pro-Chiller Leggings from Nike).

Can’t handle another argument.

Can’t keep your voice down.

Can’t muster up a smile.

Can’t stay calm.

Can’t think of anything to write about.

I just can’t. Am giving myself a pass. Hope you give yourself one, too. XO, Karen