Hello, hi, it’s me again. Mondays are fine—except I can’t find my bullet journal anywhere for the life of me. The irony, right? Having lost the very thing that was meant to keep me organized means that my life is now in shambles. (Well, not quite. But I did lose the one place where all my brain dumps made sense and were in one place, instead of in random new notes on my phone.) But enough about a lost, 20-dollar notebook [Ed’s note: The Leuchtturm1917 A5 has been found!]. I’m currently at Dunkin Donuts, writing this in an effort to pass the time between my day job and side hustle more productively. At this point, my coffee is lukewarm; I’ve been sipping it slowly for the past hour so I have reason to occupy a table (and not be side-eyed by the staff for loitering). Tomorrow it’ll be the same story. Different day, different coffee shop, same routine. It’s been like that for the past year. I work my 9-to-5:30 (or 6:30 these days, because the workload is never-ending), I find a place with free Wi-Fi to get caffeinated and scroll through Instagram, then head to Studio X, Y, or Z to either…