Halfway Through

Some days don’t arrive with an argument or an insight. They just show up.

Today is one of those days. The week is halfway over, which somehow feels both reassuring and slightly disorienting. I’m off tomorrow, though I’ll be working Saturday, so the usual rhythm of the week feels a little skewed—time folded in on itself.

Work today is steady but manageable. There are several things I need to get done, but nothing especially heavy or consuming—just the kind of tasks that move projects along without demanding all of my attention.

Thursday will be simple and practical. A short doctor’s appointment to finish something we couldn’t quite wrap up earlier in the week. Nothing dramatic, just a loose end being tied. After that, Planet Fitness—probably just thirty minutes on the treadmill. No grand workout plan, no pushing limits. Just walking, moving forward, letting my thoughts drift while the minutes pass.

I usually read while I’m on the treadmill. It makes the time go faster and keeps my mind from constantly checking in with that familiar question—how much longer? When I’m absorbed in a page or two, my body seems to take care of itself. I don’t think as much about balance or movement; I just keep going.

The part of the day I’m most looking forward to comes later: spending the afternoon with an older male friend I don’t get to see nearly often enough. We usually talk nonstop—about books, art, history, museums, and whatever else the conversation wanders into. Those kinds of conversations are their own kind of nourishment.

Not every day needs to be productive in obvious ways. Not every post needs a point. Some days are about maintenance—of the body, of routines, of friendships. And that’s enough.

Sometimes, halfway through the week, showing up quietly is its own accomplishment.