The clock hits one and the verdict arrives on cue.
Not enough.
Lunch is barely cleared and already the morning is filed under wasted.
You reach for the number that would settle it.
Two more tasks. One finished draft. Something you could point to.
But notice you've never once landed on it.
Every time you hit the mark it steps back a pace.
Enough isn't a quantity you reach.
It's a horizon that keeps its distance no matter how fast you walk.
So the frustration was never about the morning.
It was about chasing a line drawn to retreat.
What would today feel like if enough was a decision, not a destination?
