Twenty-Two Minutes

At the laundromat (restoring fluffy)

construction in town but also I like the colors and composition of a photo Tim texted me last week. maybe this is hypocritical since I have written about David Shield’s book War Is Beautiful, which features analysis of how the New York Times fetishizes war through its beautiful photography. and/but the snow and muted tones of this assemblage when he sent it made me wonder if I was looking at a Wyeth

pickle?

Touch the Cloud. Restore Fluffy.

I wish the Restoring Fluffy part of this post was an actual how-to, but it refers to ad copy on the side of a throw pillow I purchased recently. Twenty-Two Minutes refers to a washing machine timer, which I will get to below (rivetingly, for paid subscribers). However, I *have* been trying to lean into bite-sized time limits when it comes to doing things that my mind perceives as hard. This is an age-old hack for accomplishing challenging things, and you know what? It really works for me. Some people set an egg timer. I set various timers on various machines and inevitably forget the limit. Before I know it, I’m doing the thing, usually enjoying it, and blowing past the timer.