More and more, I realize how much I am like my parents.

I enjoy quiet mornings, just like my mommy—with coffee in hand, a book nearby, or a small project that brings peace to the day. I also love long drives, something I haven’t done much of since being home, but I can still remember the joy of driving forever with no real destination, just the road ahead.

To me, there is nothing better than having a place that feels like home, one that fits the needs of everyone inside while respecting each other’s privacy and space. Even the cats make their own choices—deciding which human they want to spend time with at any given moment, day or night.

This weekend has been quiet for me. Napping, sipping coffee or water, listening to audiobooks, and writing off and on. After the stress of work these past weeks, this feels like the natural come down—a time to simply be. Some of the personnel challenges at my job have been eliminated, but now comes another chapter of rebuilding.

And honestly, that doesn’t appeal to me right now. Rebuilding a team can feel a little like dating: you notice something about a person that seems to fit, that makes sense, but over time it either grows into something solid—or it falls apart. There’s always the risk of discovering a character or capability that doesn’t align, and you’re left trying again.

So, for now, I chill. I sit in the stillness of my space, grateful for what feels like home. And as I prepare to step back into the unknown, I remind myself of one thing: just flow.