I went to bed earlier than usual last night. Kiddo starts school the day after Labor Day. I’m trying to get used to his school schedule routine, a routine that works better for me as well if I’m being honest with myself. That said, I’ve already tackled a tote of miscellaneous clutter, more like a time capsule, early this morning. I found six old journals, one of which had letters from 26-year-old me addressed to future me. That one was an eye-opener! Twenty-six-year-old me wasn’t as naive as I would have thought she’d be. She still had goals and plans for her future. I’ll have to peruse these journals later. I’m curious. These journals are from a chapter of my life that’s become hazy with time.