And that now I should be setting about reforming bad habits, getting back into the routines of meditating, diet, exercise, writing, the new routine of crystal wrapping. There is time, after all, and the excuse of "the hell of other people" is no longer valid.
But it's never quite so easy as you think, once those habits take hold. For example, the inner monologue, it's largely disappeared, formerly rich - in doubt, anxiety, anger, outrage, indignation, but also inspiration and wit, and pass a sober day and wonder where it's gone. A drink, two, and there it is again. I've reset my baseline, and not in a good way.
And the exercise - easy enough when I'm working, or on a mission to gather some rocks, explore some caves or mountains, but now, here, in the perpetual poverty of EI/CERB and rationed gas, food, well, not so. Winter is not my season.
But, nose to the grindstone, a little over two months (guaranteed) left, and I'd better get my shit together...