One day, lamenting the fact that my hands were in so much pain I could not finish coloring a page in my snazzy new adult coloring book, I was met with this unsolicited advice:
My hands hurt, too, but I just take my time and if it takes me a week to color a page then it takes me a week. Remember, it’s not the destination, it’s the journey.
Cool story, bro, but you’re going to have to take your candy coated zen master bullshit elsewhere because I’m telling you my hands hurt. I’m telling you that these hands used to wedge clay and spend hours at the pottery wheel without so much as a cramp or an ache. Now, there are days that I can’t open a pickle jar.
These hands used to garden and grate and chop and slice and type and write and color and do all…
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