One thing I appreciate is my growing ability to understand how small choices affect the quality of my day. I have a history of struggling with doing things that are good for me, and while I’ve always known that certain things have a more positive influence than others, I wasn’t always able to execute on them.

Lately, I’ve been tinkering with the way I organize my mornings. I’ve come to understand that, in order for me to have a good day, I need to incorporate, in this particular order:

I’m not one to dwell on the negative, but let me just come right out and say it: I fucking hate summertime.

Like, “I hate Brussels sprouts” hate. “I’d rather be eaten alive by a shark” hate. Whatever you hate most, times 70. That kind of hate.

If I had a gun, summer wouldn’t live to tell the tale.

April showers bring May flowers, but in my world those flowers take the unpleasant shape of anxiety. I need a summer job, because I’d like to start off university with a buffer, but I also want to do fun things because it’s so warm. A morning job would be perfect, but mostly if it’s indoors. Not on some farm. Also not in a shop. Also not in some sad warehouse. After such a long, sanctimonious list of Things I Don’t Want, I’m left with two options. This is how I become a postal worker. The other option would’ve been morning prostitution.