My eye has been twitching for fourteen days.

Some self defense classes say to go for the eyes, because once something happens to your eye it’s really hard to focus (literally and figuratively) on anything outside your eyes.

It’s funny how quickly a tiny muscle wiggle pulls my focus from everything else. I’m slow to anger usually, but I found the quick intense pointless rage that bubbles up with you stub your toe on the coffee table to bubble up sometimes when my eye twitch pulls me out of the moment I’m in.

I went to an optometrist because I am the opposite of scared of the doctor (meaning I go all of the time for everything). She said eat more potassium and magnesium (I have 5-6 bananas a week and a magnesium supplement every night), sleep more (I sleep 8 hours and 24 minutes a night on average according to FitBit), and to cut down the caffeine (I usually drink 1-3 small cups a day) and the stress. Well shit.

I’m an anxious gal, and this country and time don’t help. In The Bell Jar Platt talks about her life being her sitting in a crook of a fig tree, and each fig looks tempting, but she can’t decide which one to reach for and while she’s deliberating every fig wastes away and she’s chosen nothing. That’s been resonating in me for a while as I wait to pick a fig in my life. This week a financial podcast I listen to was talking about the marshmallow test that expanded the test to remind us no one wants to wait a year for three marshmallows – your current one will get stale and there’s too many other variables to ever make that a good bargain. So maybe I need to stop staring at figs and marshmallows and just eat ‘Em, eh?

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