I randomly stumble upon your text again. I have a moral dilemma about your text: respond or has it been too long to respond. I go on with my day. I forget about your text. Rinse and repeat randomly another time.
My friend describes it like a skipping groove on a vinyl: eventually the thing you need to do will pass under the turntable’s needle, and you’ll get a chance to act upon it. If you miss that chance you’ll just have to wait until the groove skips again.
I randomly stumble upon your text again. I have a moral dilemma about your text: respond or has it been too long to respond. I go on with my day. I forget about your text. Rinse and repeat randomly another time.
My friend describes it like a skipping groove on a vinyl: eventually the thing you need to do will pass under the turntable’s needle, and you’ll get a chance to act upon it. If you miss that chance you’ll just have to wait until the groove skips again.
Every time I notice it now, I for sure know it’s been too long and now my anxiety is crippling every time I remember that texts even exist
I’m currently on a 9 day streak, longest was a little over two years. I hate it