My days are like Rihanna's style- sometimes too much,
sometimes too little, other days on point, always on freestyle.
The thing they say about training the brain the way you exercise
any other muscle in your body is for real. I've been trying to draft some sort
of routine in this otherwise Bad Girl Riri schedule. So far I've succeeded
tricking this squishy part in my skull to start reading every day, do Pilates, drink
diluted apple cider vinegar, and wake up each morning grateful for the dreams
that night, for the day that was, and the day ahead.
Now 'writing' on the other hand is my prodigal son. And I've
decided to go fetch him rather than wait around the whole day and rejoice for his
monumental comeback.
After a hissy fit and a lot of searching, here we are finally
with another blog post. Hopefully the next one won't be as much of a riot to bring
home.
The Broad Museum
Sta. Monica
