Out the doors

Touch grass.

One of those things I forget about, or put off.

Because there’s always something happening indoors.

Somewhere along the path between childhood and adulting we stopped going outside.

Gone were the days when time seemed endless, and being out there doing anything at all took all of it.

In their place?

Years spent under fluorescent tubes worried more about spreadsheets than sunsets.

Spend more time in the big room. Doing anything. Or nothing. But get outside.