I need to get more flexible.
And I don’t mean in my ability to handle dinner plans being moved from 6:30 to 7:00.
I mean, literally, I need to get more flexible in my muscles and joints and all of the other bodily fibers that are starting to creak more and more like the staircases of ancient Italian villas as I move further into my 30s with each passing day.
I know this. I understand this. I accept this.
I just haven’t been great at actually, you know, doing something about it.