Friday, Apparently

Day 19 — December 12, 2025

Today was Friday.

Which feels worth noting only because my body noticed it before my brain did.

There was no dramatic shift, no emotional crescendo, no “this-changes-everything” moment. Just that subtle loosening in the air that Fridays brings. Like the world collectively exhaled and forgot to tell me what to do next. Structure dissolved. Time got slippery. My thoughts immediately took that as permission to wander unsupervised.

Classic.

I didn’t wake up sad exactly. Or happy. Or anything I could neatly label. I woke up in that familiar in-between state where you’re tired but wired, calm but uneasy, okay but not convinced it’ll last. The emotional equivalent of standing in a doorway unsure which room you’re supposed to be in.

Friday energy.

I moved through the day doing small things. Half-finishing tasks. Starting others. Staring out the window like the universe might flash a subtitle explaining what phase of life I’m currently in. It did not. Rude.

There’s something about Fridays that makes everything quieter and louder at the same time. The noise of the week fades, and suddenly you can hear yourself again. Not always a blessing. Especially when your life is still mid-process and your nervous system hasn’t gotten the memo that it’s allowed to relax.

I kept thinking, Is this what calm feels like now? Or am I just dissociating politely?

Unclear. TBD. We’ll circle back.

But here’s the thing, and this feels important even if it’s small: I didn’t spiral today.

I felt the familiar tug. That gravitational pull toward overthinking, self-criticism, fear-as-entertainment. But I didn’t follow it. I noticed it. I acknowledged it. And then I went back to whatever I was doing, even if that thing was incredibly unimpressive.

And honestly? That might be progress.

Friday didn’t give me clarity. Or answers. Or closure. It didn’t wrap anything up in a bow. It just handed me space. And space is dangerous when you’re healing. But it’s also necessary. You can’t rebuild yourself if you never stop moving long enough to notice what still hurts.

So I let today be what it was. A quiet marker. A pause. A slightly awkward landing between the chaos of the week and whatever comes next.

No breakthroughs.
No breakdowns.

Just me, still here, still trying, still writing even when I don’t know what to say.

And maybe that’s the most Friday thing of all.

Chaos in one hand.
Grace in the other.
And me standing in the doorway, learning how to stay.